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R9 6 IbLE nOMENTS SERIES. ^ ^ 

ISSUED SEMI-MONTHLr^'UGUST I, 1891. SUBSCRIPTION PRICE $ 12.00 PER YEAR. 

Entered- uv .HEaul' PodO/pk^e a-s Second Cl<t^sPfa>iter. 

Dfeifeqe. 


Richard - S - Maurice. 



The PricE'TT^ GillCompany: 


1891 


THE MODERN EVIL. 

— ^ BY^ — 

MINNIE L. ARMSTRONG. 

• THE MOST STARTLING BOOK OF THE DAY. 

150.000 COPIES SOLD IN ONE WEEK. 

PRESS NOTICES. 


“The book entitled ‘Tpie Modern Evie,’ contains the most start 
ling ideas on the questions of marriage and divorce. It advances argiv 
ments for absolute latitute in these matters and will undoubtedly lay 
the author ox^en to severe criticism by those who are old-fashioned 
enough to wish to preserve accejjted standards of morality." 

— St. Paul Pioneer Pres. 

“ The characters are natural and the story certainly interesting and 
is well calculated to enforce, as it does, the arguments put Ibrth by the 
author in support of her cause. The story is told with a commendable 
delicacy and need cause offence to no intelligent person of either sex ; 
while the aim striven for, and, as we think, attained, is a high one." 

— Detroit News. 

“The subject is handled in a bold, vigorous manner, and is woven 
into a life drama of stirring interest. The book seems likely to make a 
sensation." — Minneapolis Spectator. 

“It treats of a subject in which nearly every person is interested. 
Its semi-sensational handling will attract people in itself." 

— Syracuse Times. 

“It is in spirit obviously an honest and earnest book." 

— Chicago Times. 

“Miss Armstrong has unquestionably dealt with her subject in a 
courageous and candid way. Her character-drawing is good, and the 
psychological situation is worked out with seriousness and conviction." 

— The Boston Beacon. 

“ Miss A rmstrong is to be commended lor the cL>uia;.;c with which 
she braves the xmblic censure; the book has the genuine ring of sincerity, 
and though she may be strongly antagonized from any source she will 
be granted her proper meed of respect. There is a suspicion of Ingersoll- 
ian doctrine in the pages and it is scarcely to be doubted that the great 
agnostic has not a firm apostle in his gifted niece." 

— Minneapolis Tribune. 

“The subject is at least forcibly argued, as when the hero strikes for 
a federal marriage, divorce law, the divorce part of it to take eftect in 
eyer3' case where couples cannot live iii peace and happiness, incompati- 
bility of temperament being made the first cause in every divorce law'. 
The Mosaic law' is also appealed to as the precedent for such divorce of 
a woman from a man who hates her; this is a very good counter evo- 
lution, but there are other than Mosaic views upheld in the story." 

— Brooklyn Eagle. 

“The Modern Eyie will probably escape the fate of the ‘ Kreutzer 
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of condemnation among purists and bigots who have a hply horror of 
touching certain matters without gloves of abnormal thickness. Miss 
Armstrong evidently agrees w'ith that author who says that the ratio of 
marriages made in Heaven to the entire number is as but one to a thous- 
and ; only she goes a step farther, and declines to see the sacredness of 
marriage wdien love and respect are things of the past. It is a stro.ng 
novel on one of the most noted questions of the day." — Denver News. 

PRICE IN PAPER, 50 CENTS. 


Albany Stakks’ Revenge 


A NOVEL 


BY 

RICHARD SlMAURICE 

'\ 

Author of “Out of the Way,” Etc. 


EDITED BY 


Mrs. S. L. Presbrey. 


The Gods are just, and of our pleasant vices 

Make instruments to plague us. — King Lear, Act V, Scene 3. 



m 18 1891 

noiLf ( 


ST. PAUL: 

The PRicE-McGrLL Company, 


X891. 



(Copyrighted 1890 by SOPHIA L. PRESBREY.) 
iAll Rights Reserved.) 


PRINTED AND PLATED BY 

THE PRICE-McGILE COMPANY, 

ST. PAUL, MINN, 


CONTEMTS 




CHAPTER. 

Biography. 

Testimonials. 

Prelude. 

I 

Albany Stark. 

II 

Birds of a Feather. 

III 

Rising in the World. 

lY 

Old Josh. 

Y 

Speculation. 

YI 

Temper. 

YII 

Sleep-Walking. 

YIII 

Billy. 

IX 

The Welcome Home. 

X 

Measuring the Ground. 

XI 

A Meeting. 

XII 

Correspondence. 

XIII 

Oliver Blande. 

XIY 

The Battle of Waterloo. 

XY 

Alice Mayne. 

XYI 

Tiptoft’s Mission. 

XYII 

At the Grange*. 

XYIII 

An Alarm. 

XIX 

Guenever’s Doubts. 

XX 

An Unlucky Experiment. 

XXI 

Dangerous. 

XXII 

Cross-Examination. 

XXIII 

The Secret of the Chest. 

XXIY 

Oliver tells a Story. 

XXY 

Oliver Continues the Story. 

XXYI 

A Proposal. 

XXYII 

Temtation. 

XXYIII 

An Orphan’s History. 

XXIX 

Senora Grey. 


XXX 

A Catastrophe. 

XXXI 

Asking Advice. 

XXXII 

Paying Compliments. 

XXXIII 

A Tight Hold. 

XXXIY 

Out Shooting. 

XXXV 

Among the Philistines. 

XXXVI 

Surveying the Ground. 

XXXVII 

The Mediator. 

.s:xxviii 

Guilty Conscience. 

XXXIX 

The Nick of Time. 

XL 

Upon the Cliff. 

XLI 

A Legal Definition. 

XLII 

Diamond Cut Diamond. 

XLIII 

Giving the Alarm. 

XLIV 

The Odour of Sanctity. 

XLV 

Inheritance. 

XLVI 

A Vivid Dream. 

XLVII 

Battle. 

XLVIII 

A Statement. 

XLIX 

Ralph sees Will. 

L 

Suspicions. 

LI 

Josh makes a Discovery. 

LII 

The Story of Don Ramon Vesallas. 

LIII 

A Grand Palaver. 

LIV 

After many Days. 

LV 

Retrospective. 

LVI 

Counsel’s Opinion. ; . 

LVII 

A Last Appeal. 

LVIII 

Doubts. 

LIX 

Wanted. 

LX 

Hard Hit. 

LXI 

Upon the Track. 

LXII 

Brought to Bay. 

LXIII 

Billy’s Mishap.’ 

LXIV 

Pigeon and Hawk. 

LXV 

Too Late. 

LXVI 

Found ! 

LXVII 

Devotion. 

LXVIII 

Jonah. 

Epilogue. 


BIOGRAPHY. 

The author of “Out of the Way,” “Albany Stark’s Revenge” 
and “ For Love, or a True Heart,” Richard Steel Maurice, was born 
Dec. 1st, 1827, at Savage Gardens, London, England. Three 
months after his birth, his father, David Sampson Maurice, was 
killed by the falling in of the Brunswick Theatre roof, (which 
theatre belonged to the Maurice family at that time). This was on 
Feb. 28th, 1828. In early childhood, Richard was sent to a pre- 
paratory school at Margate, and afterward to a private school at 
Combey-wood, under a Dr. Biber, and when he was fourteen years 
of age went to Germany to perfect himself in the language of that 
country, and to learn the art of printing. His father had left him a 
flourishing printing business in London, which had been kept up for 
him by the testamentary guardian. By the terms of his father’s 
will he was to receive a sux^erior education, and, being an -apt 
scholar, this was easily carried out. He became a clever linguist, 
versed in Latin,. Greek and Hebrew, as well as German, French and 
Spanish. On his return from Germany, he took up his duties in his 
printing office, but the business did not prosper with him, and he 
finally parted with it. He then became reader for the press, remain- 
ing with the Spottswood firm for some years, finally entering the 
“Reuter” office, where he was at the time of his death, Aug. 28th 
1868. 

He wrote and translated for several leading journals and maga- 
zines during this time, but not over his own name, as he was too 
modest and unassuming to vrah to be known until he knew his lit- 
erary efforts were crowned wuh success. In 1866 he wrote “Out 
of the Way,” which was published in serial form. In 
1867 and 1868 he wrote “Albany Stark’s Revenge,” and “For 
Love, or a True Heart,” but ere they were placed before the public 
he was taken suddenly ill and death followed in one short half-hour, 
thus, like his father, meeting a sudden and tragic death. 

Richard Steel Maurice was married July 3d, 1854, to Mrs. Carl 

Gendener, of , Germany, who, soon after his death, came to 

America with her family of six children, and died Nov. 5th, 1873, in 
Sterling, 111. One of his daughters, Sophia, now Mrs. W. D. PrevS- 
brey, is living in St. Paul, and, after repeated efforts, she has suc- 
^.'eeded in obtaining a copy of “Albany Stark’s revenge,” one of 
three or four copies which were left in England among her father’s 
relatives. She also has obtained the original manuscript of 
“For Love, or a True Heart,” which will be published later. 


TESTIMONIALS. 


United States Consulate, 

Malaga, Oct. 10th, 1890. 


Mrs. W. D. Presbrey: — 

Dear Madam : I consider the work entitled “Albany 
Stark’s Revenge” as* one of much merit. The plot is intricate and well 
woven, and if the work bore the name of Dickens or Thackery, it would 
meet with a great sale. The revenge was terrible, and I could wish that 
the volume might have ended differently, but this does not detract from the 
great ability the author has shown in his construction of the work. 

Yours very truly, 


T. M. Newson. 


St. Paul, March 10, 1891. 

Mrs. W. D. Presbrey, City : — ^ 

Dear Madam: Through the kindness of a 
mutual friend, I had the pleasure pf reading a book of about a thousand 
pages, entitled “Albany Stark’s Revenge,” written by your late father, 
Richard S. Maurice. It seems strange to me that some of his heirs have 
not long ago brought it before the public. I think it equal, if not superior, 
to the works of the renowned Dickens, and believe it would become quite 
• as popular. 


[dictated.] 


Respectfully, 


E. L. Larpenteur. 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


PRELUDE A. D. 1812 . 

An April evening, just before the setting of the stin, and a rustic 
stile, against which leans the figure of a working man, in the coarse 
dress of an English laborer. 

Deeply absorbed in gloomy thoughts, with folded arms and hat 
pulled over his brows, this man, Edward Blythe— bailiff to an ab- 
sentee Norfolk landlord, the Squire of Thorne — had been too much 
pre-occupied to hear a light step tripping gaily along the path that 
wound through the sprouting corn. Much to his surprise a pair of 
soft little hands were suddenly clasped before his eyes, and a gentle 
voice whispered in his ear: “Who is it? Guess. 

“Not hard to do that, Annis dear;^^ sighed moody Edward, un- 
clasping the little hands and holding both of them within his 
brawny palm. “There’s only one in all Thome as cares enow for 
me to ask. And she won’t do ’t for long, neither.” 

“ Why, what’s the matter? ” asked the girl, eagerly. 

Edward detailed his grievance. To him a serious matter, to 
those more favored by Fortune it may seem ludicrously common- 
place. He had applied to his employer’s London agent, a solicitor, 
named Owen, for an increase of wage, and his request had been 
refused. 

To nip all such inconvenient aspirations for the future in the 
bud, Mr. Owen had hinted that the Squire had serious thoughts of 
selling his estates. ^ 

A despondent man by nature, Edward was now in despair. 
For, be it known, this foolish rustic was violently in love, and anx- 


8 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


ious to marry. Annis Le^e — his betrothed — listened ^ympathisingly 
to all he said, with woman’s quickness seized^upon the salient facts; 
ignored self, and set about comforting the doleful one. 

‘^It IS hard, dear, certainly,” she said, “but I would n’t take on 
so if I were you. Suppose the Squire does part with Thorne, you’d 
likely be bailiff still. Nobody knows the estate and the tenants so 
well. And then, who can tell ? When the new owner sees how use- 
ful you are to him, why, of course he’ll be glad to pay you better. 
Have a little patience. We can wait.” 

’Tain’t that, my girl ! ” cried young Blythe, passionately. “ God 
knows I love thee dearer than owt on earth — ay, or in heaven 
either, I think, sometimes — an’ I’d wait an’ willing till my hair was 
grey if so be there were the chance o’ ever caflin’ thee mine. ’Tain’t 
that I ain’t patient for myself, but ’tis more nor I can bear to see 
thee wasting away thy blooming youth in waiting for a man as can 
never marry. An’ we must part, Annis ! There ! Now the murder’s 
out.” 

He dashed his hat upon the ground, folded his arms again, and 
fronted Annis sternly, with a reckless look upon his features. The 
girl laid her hand upon his sleeve, and looked up in his face, be- 
seechingly. 

“ Ay, we must part, wench, that’s the bitter truth,” Edward went 
on. “ ’Tis of no use talking. My mind’s made up. Tell your 
mother to-morrow you’ll do as she wants you, an’ marry Crowe — 
curse him! ” the young iuan ground out between his clenched teeth. 
“I’ll go away an’ leave Thorne, an’ — an’ ’list or hang or drown or 
something — no matter.” 

He turned away, and hid his face between his hands, with a 
groan. Annis came after him, and gently touched his shoulder. 
The strong man quivered. 

“Edward,” said a pained voice, “have I deserved this? Is it 
kind ? Have I ever been discontented, or complained ? Think of 
my feelings, dear, a little, as well as of your own.” 

Light as it was, the reproach cut him. He turned in an instant, 
caught her slender figure in his stalwart arms, and strained it pas- 
sionately to his heaving breast. 

“Would I part with thee, if ’t was n’t for thy good?” he cried. 
“Is n’t it like tearing heart and soul in half to think o’ giving up 
the girl I love, o’ going away from the place where I was born and 


ALBANY S-TARK^S REVENGB. 


& 

bred, and where I hoped to ha’ passed my quiet life, and ha’ laid my 
head when my time came ? Show me another way with anything 
like half a chance in it, and ’t won’t be wait’n or work as ’ll 
frighten me.” 

‘‘That’s my own sensible Edward again,” returned the girl. 
“Now listen to me. I’m going to ask several questions, and I shall 
expect answers, sir, do you hear? First, then, you love me a little 
bit, don’t you ? ” 

“ Better than my life, wench, as thou knowest.” 

“Well, I think 3’ou do. There, don’t squeeze so hard. You can 
say ‘ yes ’ without giving me a hug like a great bear, you know. 
Next, I suppos^e you fancy now that I’m attached to you ? ” 

“Better for thee if thou were n’t. Yet if thou ’rt not, there’s 
never truth in woman.” 

“Mercy on us! How fierce you look at a body. Well, I won’t 
say but I’ve some foolish liking for a certain person not a hundred 
miles away, though he is n’t in the sweetest of tempers just at pres- 
ent. Now look here, Edward dear, when you like anybody, what 
do you think the best way of showing it ? Trying to vex one, I 
suppose, eh ? 

“Vex thee, my girl? What’s there I would n’t do to please thee 
for an instant ? Tell me a single thing .” 

“Stop, stop! That’ just you men folk. Ready to do anything 
but what you’re wanted. If vexing is n’t your way of showing a 
liking, sir, pray how dared you say just now there was only one 
person in Thorne — meaning me, I suppose — who cared for you, and 
that she would n’t do so for long ? Did n’t you know in your heart 
that such cruel words must hurt my feelings, vex me, cut me to the 
soul? Oh, Edward, Edward, I haven’t deserved such unkind 
taunts from you ! ” 

FTere the brave heart faltered a moment. Annis’s lips quivered, 
and her eyes filled with tears. Edward looked sheepish. Men 
always show to disadvantage in tongue fence. 

“And when you knew the trouble I’d had at home on your 
account,” continued Annis, following up the attack with a sob, “I 
think you might have had a little — little more — con — con — consider- 
ation, but men are such hasty, un — grate — ful creatures. I’m sure I 
wonder sometimes girls ever trouble their heads about them.” 

Edward Blythe was very penitent. His sweetheart’s tears had 


10 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


gained the victory. He did n’t go down upon his knees to beg her 
pardon ; unaware, you c«ee, of that position being the one in which 
amorous transgressors always ought to implore forgiveness. But 
he kissed away his fair one’s tears, and there was a mute eloquence 
in the clasp of his right arm round her waist that was quite as con- 
solatory to Annis’s wounded feelings, as if her lover had grovelled 
in the dust at her feet. 

The misunderstanding arranged, and feminine dignity sufficiently 
vindicated, Annis next addressed herself to the task of inculcating 
continued patience and waiting for better times. 

“You see, dear, we must not be down-hearted,” she resumed. 
“Supposing even that what Mr. Owen hints is true, and the Squire 
does mean to sell Thorne, I don’t know but what that would be the 
best thing that could happen. As the Squire won’t pay you better, 
there’s the chance, as* I said before, that the new owner might.” 

“ He might,” replied Edward, dubiously, shaking his head ; “ or a 
new owner might bring his own bailiff, my wench, which ’d be 
worse than all. Better half a loaf than none. If I lose my place, 
we ’re further off coming together than ever.” 

“For a time, perhaps, but still it might turn out best in the end,” 
suggested Hope. “Men are n’t like girls, you know, bound by a 
thousand ties to the same spot. A man can go out into the world, 
Edward dear, and win from Fortune elsewhere what she refuses him 
at home.” 

“What! leave Thorne!” cried young Blythe, aghast at the bold- 
ness of the idea. “ I couldn’t, wench, I tell ye. What ever should I 
do among furriners ? ” 

“Yet it ’s no more than you talked of doing just now,” rejoined 
Annis, slyly. “But seriously, why not? Thorne isn’t the world. 
Do you fancy people can’t live happy and prosper except just where 
they chance to be born? England would be a very stand-still 
country if all were stay-at-homes. Look at Ralph.” 

“ Ay, but I’m not like thy brother, wench. He was always want- 
ing to get away from Thorne and see the world, and make his for- 
tune. Be.sides I could n’t go to sea.” 

Annis laughed merrily. The idea of her huge, strong-limbed, to 
say truth, rather clumsily-built lover embracing a vocation which, 
above all others, requires lissomeness and agility, struck her as 
irresistibly ludicrous. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


11 


‘‘No, dear,’^ she said, “j^on couldn’t goto sea; indeed, Heaven 
forbid that you should! Nor would I like to be a sailor’s wife. It’s 
bad enough to be awoke at night by the wind moaning and the 
rain pattering against the house while I lie snug and warm, and to 
think my only brother is perhaps that moment struggling for his 
life with the relentless waves. I would n’t even have you take up 
amother business. Why should you ? Farming is well enough to 
live by. What I meant was that if you don’t see any prospect of 
advancement here, nothing hinders you — a man, young, strong, and 
master of your calling — from pursuing it elsewhere.” 

“And what’s to become o’ you then? ” demanded Edward. 

“Why, of course, I should stop here and wait,” said Annis, cheer- 
fully. 

Edward Blythe shook his head. 

“Teach my scholars the little I know myself, as I do now,” con- 
tinued the girl in a hopeful tone, “and think of the time when you’ll 
be the master of a farm of your own, dear, with a whole army of 
laborers to superintend ; you won’t fancy you ’re too poor to 
marry then — will you ? ” 

“ ’T is all very well, Annis,” he answered gloomily, “but that day 
’ll never come — I’m not the kind o’ stuff to thrive in strange soil. 
If I can’t get on here, I shan’t prosper nowhere. ’T is no use, 
wench, I tell thee. We must give it up.” 

“Edward,” she urged, “be reasonable. Never be disheartened at a 
little reverse. If you think it would be useless to leave Thorne, 
stay. Heaven knows, dear, your absence would be pain enough to 
me; still, if it were for the best, I’d be the last to murmur. Stay, 
by all means. Nothing in your position is yet changed — let us go 
on as we are.” 

“That can’t be, neither,” he muttered, turning moodily away. 

“Why?” 

“ Because — because it can’t. Don’t ask.” 

“If you were a girl, dear, that would be an excellent reason, no 
doubt,” she laughed, pleasantly. “But one expects to hear some 
real motive from a man. Come, tell me, Edward,” she added, coax- 
ingly, “why can’t we go on as we are and wait for better times? ” 

“ Because, wench, I love thee! ” he burst out, vehemently, turning 
upon the startled girl a passion-swollen face. “Because I worship 
the very ground thou treads on, an’ I can’t — no ! nor I wont longer 


12 


AlbaM stark^s revenge. 


— I can’t see tliee fadin’, dwindlin’ away daily like wilted corn, 
talked to an’ talked at, scolded an’ vexed an’ persecuted an’ pointed 
at, an’ ^11 along o’ thy liking for me! Is n’t the life thy mother 
leads thee village talk ? Is n’t the honse o’ that drunken old vaga- 
bond Crowe tied to the gate for hours while he’s pestering thee 
within ? And what have I to offer agin him ? Better I should go 
an’ be out o’ the way. Thou ’It grieve at first, mayhap, for thou ’st 
a fond an’ faithful heart, but thou ’It forget me after a bit, and it 
will be better for thee in the end. I must go, I must go, and what 
becomes o’ me thou ’st the only one who ’ll care. What matter? 
’t is only one less in the world.” 

She tried to soothe him, but he pushed her roughly away. 

Stand off I ” he cried, madly. “Stand off for thy life! I’m dan- 
gerous. Does thee know what the devil’s been whispering these ten 
minutes past at my elbow ? Shall I tell thee ? ” 

Again she tried to lay her hand upon hi^ arm ; again he put her 
from him. 

“Hear what the fiend says: ‘If thou can’t have her, make sure 
she don’t belong to another. One plunge beneath the waters of 
yon pond, and she is thine — dead, if not living! No man will covet 
her then ? ’ Wench, I’m not m^’^self ; stand off, I say, or I shall do 
thee harm ! ” 

As Annis .still advanced towards his retreating figure, love and 
compassion beaming from her pitying eyes, the unhappy victim of 
frenzy uttered a wild cry, turned, leapt the stile, and fled at the top 
of his speed along the public road. Annis gazed after him in dismay 
until he was lost to sight, then, sinking at the foot of the stile, cov- 
ered her face with her hands, and burst into a flood of tears. 

Now, as evil fortune would have it, the Father of mischief— 
whom poor Edward Blythe’s sick fancy had imagined making hor- 
rible suggestions at his elbow — finding, I suppose, that instinct had 
defeated him for the moment, cast about at once for another means 
of effecting his malignant purpose. And as, proverbially, luck never 
fails the old gentleman at a pinch, who should come tit- tupping 
along the road, upon his sure-footed bay mare, returning from mar- 
ket, but Farmer Crowe ! 

The farmer had sold his hay well, and was bringing home its 
price. He had dined also with the purchaser, and after dining had 
drunk, as not unfrequently happened, considerably more than was 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


13 


good for him. The trotting mare with Farmer Crowe swaying 
from side to side upon her back arrived opposite the stile just as 
Edward Blythe’s figure had disappeared from view; there halted. 
Her rider lurched heavily aside, nearl3' fell, but managed to retain 
his seat. 

“So-ho! lass! What ails ye?” hiccoughed Crowe to the animal. 
“This ar’ n’t farm; ’t is only — hulloa!” he ejaculated, as his eye 
fell upon Annis’s shrinking figure. ” Who’s yon ? ” 

The girl returned no answer, but cowered closer to the stile, 
with her hands before her face. The rays of the sinking sun 
streamed over her form. 

” Cant the wench speak ? ” demanded the farmer, failing to recog- 
nize his divinity. “Women ain’t generally back’ard wi’ tongue- 
work. What are ye doin’ here up by my stile ? ” 

Still no reply. 

Crowe' lumbered heavily off his mare, and made a zig-zag ap- 
proach towards Annis. 

“Come, wench,” he said, “I ’ll ha’ toll now afore we two part. 
Gi’e us a buss, an’ I’ll let ’ee go. Don’t be shy. There’s nobbudy 
near to see.” 

He threw his arm around her waist and tried to draw her 
towards him. She faced round angrily at the touch, and he stag- 
gered back with a shout of dismay 

“Lordsake! ’T is Annis Lee!” he exclaimed; then quickly recov- 
ering himself continued with a drunken leer, “An’ did ye think now 
I did n’t know ’ee, when there’s ne’er a girl in all the county so trig 
and shapely built? Why, I ’d ha’ found ’ee out among a thousand. 
Come, wench; I’ve wooed ye long enow. Never be coy. There’s 
nobbudy near to see. Gie ’s a buss an’ name the day, and we’ll have 
ye Mistress Crowe within a month.” 

The former pressed eagerly closer to the frightened girl, the hot 
breath from his drink-sodden face pouring into her countenance, the 
evil glance of his inflamed eyes glaring upon her comely features. 
She placed her hands against his breast, and thurst him from her 
with a shriek. 

“Stand back, sir!” she cried. “How dare you insult an unpro- 
tected girl ? Let me pass, I say, this minute ! ” 

“Not till I get your promise, my wench,” he retorted. “You ’ve 
fooled me long enough, an’ it’s my turn now. ky, you may set up 


14 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


your pipe, but no one ’ll hear you. All the village is gone to Broom- 
hill fair, an’ we ’re here alone. Come, Annis girl, gi’e’s your prom- 
ise, or ” 

He threw his arms around the girl again, and pressed his glow- 
ing lips upon her cheek, her mouth, her brow. She summoned up 
all her strength to cast him from her, but in vain. The ruffian, 
flushed with drink and inflamed with oppsition, was too powerful 
for her. She threw back her head, and screamed in passionate des- 
pair. Crowe thrust his brawny palm before ber mouth, and held 
her lips. 

’T is no use, wench ! ” he shouted. “ I ’ll have the promise now 
I ’ve got the chance.” There’s not a soul within a mile, and the 
game is mine, thanks to the luck that sent you in my way to-night. 
Promise, I say, or I ”11 make you glad to beg for ” 

‘‘Hands off the girl, my hearty! ” sung out a full cheery voice at 
this instant. “You won’t eh ? Then, hearts of oak to the rescue! ” 

And crash came the stunning blow of a stout cudgel full on the 
farmer’s unprotected head, stretching him senseless at the feet of 
the insulted girl. 

“Ralph! Ralph! My brother!” shrieked Annis, rushing into her 
deliverer’s arms. “ Oh, what kind Providence sent you to my aid ? ” 

“Why, Annis girl! ” Was ’t thou that piped to quarters? Stop 
my grog for a fortnight! If I’d only recognised your voice before, 
that rascal should have had a harder lick. Can’t touch the beggar, 
now, ye see. He’s down. Never mind. Keep it for him till he gets 
up again.” 

Ralph Lee was a young fellow about twenty, of middle height, 
but square across the chest and shoulders. A well-looking young- 
ster, with dark -blue eyes and black curly hair, an aquiline nose, full 
lips, and well-shaped chin, around which twined the first-fruits of a 
budding beard. 

“No, No!” cried Annis, “you have done enough. Pray Heaven 
he is not seriously hurt.” 

“Not he, the scoundrel ! ” returned her brother, coolly rolling the 
prostrate figure over with his foot. “Only got a broken head to 
teach the cowardly swab manners. Why ’t is Crowe, the farmer. 
Rascally old goat! See, he ’s coming to. Hulloa, my hearty, what 
cheer, hey!” 

The farmer staggered to his feet, and wiped away the blood that 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVBNGB, 


15 


trickled down his face, surveying his antagonist the while with a 
malignant eye. 

“You’ll learn to leave a decent girl alone another time, I reckon,” 
said the sailor. “Damme if I hain’t a mind to give your old ribs a 
hearty basting. How dare you lay your rascally craft alongside 
my sister, ye pirate ? ’ ’ 

“Hush, Ralph,” whispered Annis. “ Don’t irritate him. He has 
been punished sufficiently ; let him go.” 

“D’ye hear?” cried Ralph. “Sheer off, and make yourself scarce, 
vanish, clap on sail, or I won’t say what may happen. ’Bout ship, 
ye grampus, and begone ! ” 

Crowe clambered painfully into his saddle, then turning shook 
his fist at the sailor, with a spiteful grin. “I’ll make you pay for 
this, you young ruffian!” he ejaculated. “If you don’t pass the 
night in the lock-up, my name isn’t Crowe.” 

Ralph Lee started forward to punish his insolence, but the 
farmer struck his mare smartly with the whip and was out of reach 
in a moment. 

“Curse him!” cned Ralph. “He ar’n’t worth throwing away a 
shot up, or I’d have given him a blue pill as a digester.” 

He drew a pistol from his breast, and tapped the barrel. Annis 
threw herself before him with a scream. 

“Don’t be feared, girl,” said her brother, laughing. “I won’t 
harm the skunk, though ’t would ha’ gone hard with you, I’m 
thinking, if I had n’t come up in time. Now tell me, how are you 
getting on? Not spliced yet, o’ course. Where’s Blythe? How’s 
mother ? What’s the news in Thorne ? ” 

There was a reckless strangeness in his air and way of speech 
that startled Annis. His sea faring life, she thought, had altered 
him greatly. He had grown broader, looked more manly than when 
she saw him last ; his features were bronzed ; but these changes were 
to be expected. The noticeable point was his uneasy glance, shift- 
ing every moment from side to side, as if he feared an accusation or 
a foe. What had happened, thought Annis, to give his eye the rest- 
less, watchful gaze of a man constantly upon his guard ? 

Ralph’s repetition of his questions in an irritable tone recalled 
her from conjecture. She hastened to give a hurried sketch of all 
that had occurred since his departure. It was not much. Quiet 
lives, like that of this* simple village girl, have little note-worthy, 


16 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


and their events are summed up in a scanty space. As was but 
natural, Annis dwelt mainly upon the troubks atteifding her 
engagement to Edward Blythe, her mother’s opposition and desire 
she should marry Farmer Crowe, the little prospect of a happy 
union coming to pass. Lastly, she told of her lover’s disappoint- 
ment, and of the scene that had just taken place. 

“What is to be the end of it, dear Ralph,’’ she sobbed. “Heaven 
only knows. Poor Edward is so easily disheartened. If he would 
have a little patience, things would surely come round. Even 
mother can’t think of favoring Crowe after his beha^dor to-day. 
But you men,’’ she added, smiling through her tears, “are such im- 
patient creatures. If you can’t have your own way just when you 
want it, 3^ou are ready to give up directly. Women bear troubles 
better, Ralphy dear.” 

“May-be, but then all women aren’t like you, my wench,” 
returned the sailor, drawing her towards him and bestowing a 
sounding kiss upon her cheek. “Blythe’s want of pluck gets over 
me. What, the deuce! If old Owen won’t raise his pay, why don’t 
he get another ship ? Owners are always ready to sign articles with 
handy men. ’T is so at sea, at least; why not ashore ? But never 
mind ! I’ve got some good news for you, my girl, as ’ll astonish you 
above a bit, I reckon. What d’ye say to my having made a fortune? 
Only, keep dark’s the word.” 

“ Keep — dark I ” repeated Annis. “I don’t quite understand.” 

“Well, mum, then! Don’t split or peach,” returned her brother, 
testily. “Not a soul’s to know, except you and Blythe. Now, d’ye 
twig?’* 

“ Yes, but why ? Surely there can be nothing wrong. Oh, Ralph, 
dear brother, tell me you have not been led away to crime! ” 

She seized him by the arm, and gazed into his face in sickening 
dismay. A foreboding of evil settled down upon her, like lead. 
Ralph shook her off roughly. 

“Crime bed d!” he retorted. “What! has the wench turned 

sniveller? Here have I came down o’ purpose to give her the means 
of having her heart’s desire, and she turns to an’ accuses me of 
crime! Confound it, girl, but that’s coming it a little too strong. 
Crime, indeed ! Why, I’m going to make your fortune ! ” 

He was so wonderfully indignant that one better acquainted 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


17 


with mankind would have suspected his vehemence. Annis apolo- 
gised, and Ralph continued : 

“The ‘Mary Jane,’ in which I came back from Valparaiso, made 
port ten days ago. The crew had all to goto London for their pay. 
My share was n’t much, because I’d had most of it in advance. A 
ten-pun’ note covered the lot. Well, I was strolling along the 
streets, thinking I’d come down here next day an’ see how you and 
mother were getting on, when all of a sudden I clapped my eyes on 
a big placard about the lottery. ’T was drawing then, said the 
bills, and most of the great prizes were still in the wheel. ‘Nothing 
venture, nothing have,’ thinks 1; ‘blowed if I don’t try my luck.’ So 
in I went, and bought half a chance ; you see I could n’t afford a 
whole one. As ’t was, the half share nearly cleaned me out, but, 
thinks I, I’ll run the risk. 

“Well, I found out from the chap as kept the office where the 
lottery was drawn, and off I went to see all fair. ’T was nearly 
over for the day when I got in, but I saw enough to feel pretty sure 
the was n’t any cheating. Next day, day after, for two days after 
that, I watched every number that came out, and you may judge I 
felt pretty mad to think mine wasn’t among ’em. Well thelast day 
came, I was one o’ the first into the drawing place, waited all day, 
and the last number that was called out with a prize was mine ! 

A joyful exclamation escaped Annis, who had listened to his 
narrative with growing surprise. To her unsophisticated nature 
the story had all the charm of perfect novelty. She had heard of 
lotteries, of course, and that persons sometimes gained mighty 
prizes, but that her brother should have been one of these favorites 
of Fortune seemed the extreme of wonder. 

“ Oh dearest Ralph,” she cried, “how glad I am ! Who ever would 
have thought 3 ^ou could be so lucky? ” 

“Hush, girl,” her brother whispered, looking apprehensively 
round. “ I’ve got the money here; but nobody’s to know. Keep 
quiet. Hush!” 

“Why? There’s nothing wrong,” she answered. “Lotteries are 
allowed, ain’t the^'?” 

“Yes, yes; but still we must be prudent. Now look here, wench. 
This money after all will be no good to me. I’m young and strong, 
and want to see the world. The sea’s the life for me this many a 
year. When I get old and lay up in port for good, it might be of 


18 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE, 


some use. Time enough to think o^ that. I’ve got another ship 
and shall be off again, but the prize I’ll leave in j^our charge. Blythe 
and you are to marry at once, d’ye hear— at once. Tell him to buy 
a farm, and make a home for mother. Hulloa ! who’s coming along 
the road there?” 

They had been walking towards the village as they conversed, 
and the quick eye of the sailor detected figures on in front. Annis 
shaded her sight with her hand, but could see no one. 

‘‘Yes, yes,” he repeated, impatiently, stamping, “right on ahead. 
Now they’re behind the trees ; now they come out upon the road. A 
man on horseback and two others afoot. By heavens ! —that scoun- 
drel Crowe, with the village constables ! Annis, we must part.” 

He drew her back behind the hedge that lined the road. They 
waited to let the pursuers pass, Annis clinging to her brother in dis- 
may. 

“This way, lads, this way I ” cried the hoarse voice of the farmer, 
broken with passion. “We’ll find ’em by the stile. Step out quick — 
quick, I say.” 

Ralph turned to Annis, and drew from his bosom a flat tin-case, 
of the kind in which sailors carry their certificates of service. “The 
money’s here, my wench,” he whispered. “ Be careful of it, and act 
as I’ve directed. Stop! I must have a trifle to carry me aboard.” 

He opened the case, fluttered a lioll of notes between his fingers, 
selected a couple, and returned the case to his sister. 

“Now, girl, good-bye. There 1 there I Don’t snivel. Tell ye there’s 
nought to fear. I’ll make for the wood and strike ’cross country to 
Lynn. The fisherman ’ll give me a cast up to London. Kiss old 
mother, remember me to Ned, and mind you get spliced without 
delay. Good-bye, my wench, good bye.” 

He clasped her to his breast, leapt the hedge into the road, and 
was in a second in the field beyond, running at the top of his speed 
to gain the wood, where he would be beyond pursuit. As it hap- 
pened, Crowe and the constables, returning from their fruitless visit 
to the stile, turned the corner at that moment, and caught sight of 
his retreating figure. 

“There he go! ” shouted Crowe, foaming with rage. “After the 
varmint, lads! Five pounds to the man as takes him! Ten! 
Twenty ! ” 

He dashed his spirited mare at the hedge as he spoke, and, 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


19 


followed by the constables, rushed after the fugitive across the field. 
Annis watched the chase with clasped hands and straining eyes. She 
saw^ the farmer gaining upon Ralph and shrieked in her despair; 
saw that Crow^e had already reached his man; saw the heavy 
loaded whip raised high in air to strike him to the earth, when sud- 
denly there came a flash, a puff of smoke, a loud report. Shot 
through the heart, the mare rolled over and over on the ground, 
throwing her rider doubled up yards away into a helpless, inert 
mass. Like prudent men, the constables instantly halted. Ralph 
gained the wood, waved his hat to his w^atching sister in trium- 
phant token of his escape, and was immediately lost to view. 

When Annis Lee that evening, in the solitude of her bed-camber, 
opened the tin case left by her brother in her charge, she drew forth 
notes, bank-bills, and papers of value to the amount of Four Thous- 
and Pounds. 


CHAPTER I. 


ALBANY STARK. 

The curtain you have just seen fall in April, 1812, rises again 
after the lapse of five-and-twenty years. The drama we are now 
about to witness begins in 1837, with the great metropolis of 
Britain as the opening scene. • 

Borne on by the human tide that unceasingly ebbs and flows 
upon a matehless Strand, the passer-by of thirty years ago might 
have been carried by its current up a little creek upon his right hand, 
as he set his face towards the West. Passing under an imposing- 
looking archway, now swept away by the besom of modern im- 
provement, to give space for the new Law Courts, he might fairly 
fancy, from the apparent grandeur of the vestibule, he was about to 
enter some magnificent hall or lofty temple. Never was greater 
error. 

As far back as the time of Saxon Ethelred there was situated on 
this spot a well, sacred to St. Clement. Here penitents came, to 
drink at the spring, and be relieved of their sins by the supposed 
efficacy of its waters. The march of intellect, discrediting miraeles, 
has covered the wonder-working spring with a pump — useful but 
hideous. Adjoining the spring there stood an inn, where the penit- 
ents lodged. As time wore on, and the space between London city 
and Charing village became covered with habitations, more dwell- 
ings sprang up around the well. The inn was enlarged, and becom- 
ing by degrees improved out of existence, grew into ranges of build- 
ings, forming streets and lanes and squares. The great gateway 
til at has just disappeared was built. The device of an anchor over 
the entrance typified the martyrdom of the patron saint of the 
spring, believed to have been tied to an anchor and cast into the 
sea under Traian. 


ALBANY STABK^S RBVENGB. 


21 


By degrees the buildings which had replaced the little inn were 
occupied by law-students, first distributed about the vicinity, then 
collected into a society under the name of Clement’s Inn. From that 
time until the present the locality has been sacred to the legal tribe. 

Cast up under the archway a human waif from the roaring ocean 
of humanity in the Strand, the passenger might stray away into 
the quiet squares and gardens making up the Inn. Here the most 
prominent object was a statue representing a kneeling African, bear- 
ing upon his head an article supposed at first sight to be a soujd 
plate. Looking closer, it turned out to be a sun-dial. Of this figure, 
it is averred, that a paper was one day found affixed to the breast, 
upon which some wicked wit had traced these lines : 

“In vain, poor sable son of woe, 

Thou shedd’st the tender tear; 

From thee in vain with pangs they flow, 

For mercy dwells not here. 

“From cannibals thou fledd’st in vain; 

Lawyers less quarter give. 

The first won’t eat you till you’re slain; 

The last will do ’t alive.” 

Just opposite the statue of the kneeling Moor, at the date of this 
veracious story, yawned an opening, forming the doorway to a 
house upon the north side of the square. According to strict legal 
precedent, the names of the persons occupying the suites of cham- 
bers were inscribed upon either jamb. Inspecting this directory, 
you would hardly fail to be struck with the curious nomenclature. 
The ground-floor was sacred to the firm of Sterkin and Nobbs. The 
story abo\’e was dedicated to the use of P. T. Macraw, Josiah 
Phibster, Reeks and Wapshot, and Nathan Salmon, the last eviden- 
tly a Jew attorney, ashamed of the contrast he presented to the 
wisest of kings, and seeking a flimsy disguise under the patronymic 
of the king of fish. The tablet marking the second-floor occupants 
told a different tale. Irish and Scotch practitioners were its only 
tenants. Patrick O’Flanagan, Barnabas Broyle, Cornelius O’Grady, 
represented the sister island, while the legal talent of the Land 
o’ Cakes rejoiced in such historic names as Ruthyn Stuart, Alex. 
Comyn, and Walter Harden. The two latter gentlemen, their 
means being limited, could not muster more than one consulting- 
room and a single diminutive clerk between them. In the rare 
event of a client appearing to consult his solicitor, the other tenant 


22 


ALBAm STARK^S REVENGE. 


caught tip his hat, muttered an excuse of urgent business, and 
departed to stare into shop-windows along the Strand. 

The occupant of the third story tvas a personage of a far more 
singular caste. The legend upon the door-post styled him Albany 
Stark. 

It would be hardly possible to explain, now, the peculiar nature 
of this gentleman’s various occupations, still I will try. He dabbled 
in all kinds of agencies, from recommending a private tutor to 
getting up a company. He gave advice upon every subject in any 
way, however remotely, connected with law. He found claimants 
for unclaimed dividends, and assisted necessitous heirs in obtaining 
disputed legacies. He instituted private inquiries, and looked after 
persons who had mysteriously disappeared. He was the originator 
of the (now) well-known manoeuvre of advertising that if some 
spendthrift So-and-so called upon Albany Stark, Esq., of 54 Clement’s 
Inn, he would hear of something very greatly to his advantage ; and 
when the deluded So-and-so rushed in, red-hot and breathless, to in- 
quire after the good fortune that had fallen to his lot, of politely 
introducing him to a bailiff behind the door. Advertisements in the 
newspapers headed “Should this meet the eye,” “If P. Q. will re- 
turn to his disconsolate parents all shall be forgiven,” and the thou- 
sand others of a similar class, now so familiar, are believed to have 
been the invention of Albany Stark. 

He had agents all over the kingdom, but especially at the ports. 
If a confidential clerk levanted with a large sum belonging to his 
employer accidentally in his possession, where an ordinary man 
would have called in the assistance of the police, the knowing ones 
resorted to Stark. Thirty years ago, the electric telegraph, if 
known, was not in general use, but, within an hour after notifica- 
tion of the loss, messengers with full descriptions of the delinquent 
were on their road to the various outlets by which experience knew 
that roguery generally sought escape, and rare were the instances 
in which the skill of the practised man-hunter was baffled. 

I need hardly remark that every service he rendered was with an 
eye to profit. Not that he invariably accepted payment in money. 
He was far too astute. There were cases— and those not of rare 
oceurrence — in which he entirely refused to be recompensed in coin, 
preferring to lay his client under an obligation. I doubt, however, 
whether the client was much the gainer by this process in the end. 


ALBANY STAEK^$ R'EVBNOB, 


23 


These avocations however were only, so to speak, the pastimes 
in which Albany Stark indulged; upon which he whetted and 
sharpened the keen edge of his acute intellect, to keep it bright and 
constantly ready for more serious use. His main business will dis- 
play itself as we proceed with this history. 

The chambers on the third story of 54, Clementes Inn, consisted 
of three large apartments — an outer office, a counting-house, and a 
private room — and one smaller chamber behind, always kept locked. 
Two clerks clad in rusty black, middle-aged men, who had ap- 
parently grown grey upon a prolonged diet of pounce and parch- 
ment, at times occupied the desks in the outer room. I say at times, 
because the life of these legal appendages was of a very peripatetic 
character. Mere copying machines, with just sufficient brains to 
engross a deed, to serve a writ, or carry a message, they vrere 
ordered off at a moment’s notice to the other end of the metropolis 
whenever need arose, or it was thought advisable certain visitors 
to their principal should not be seen. Their nanjes were Funks and 
Twitter, and their characters corresponded. 

The counting house formed the usual abiding place of a far more 
important personage — of one indeed whose enormous value, in his 
own eyes, it was difficult to over-rate. Albany Stark’s head clerk, 
managing man, and confidential agent, so far as the lawyer’s sus- 
picious character allowed him to place trust in anybody, occupied 
this room. 

Nathaniel Tiptoft — commonly called bj" his intimates “Nat.” — 
was a fussy, self-sufficient individual, physically very small, ment- 
ally, in his own opinion, gigantic. Really in stature about five feet 
two, the high-heeled boots he constantly wore added a couple of 
inches to his altitude. He was slim, and of a tolerable figure, nearly 
thirty, dressed as expensively as his means would afford, but in 
questionable taste. He reminded you of the daw in the fable, 
decked in picked-up peacocks’ plumage, that sat ill upon him. Truth 
compels me to say Tiptoft was not handsome. A complexion the 
color of unbaked dough, studded with freckles; eyes of watery 
blue, inclined to weakness; a longish nose, of decidedly upward 
leanings ; large mouth and lips, behind which shone good teeth ; the 
whole surmounted with hay-colored hair, worn long and falling 
back onto the neck — all these are elements out of which I defy even 
Phidias to construct Apollo. 


24 


ALBANY STARKS REVENGE. 


The glory and main peculiarity of Tiptoft’s appearance— again 
in his own eyes — remains to be told. It consisted in an enormously 
long and ample beard, carefully parted up the middle as far as the 
under lip, and waxed, to retain its position. The sides waved like 
hairy steamers in the wind. This species of decoration was not 
common then. A man with a long beard was followed and stared 
at in the streets, if not hooted by small boys. Perhaps we are more 
civilized in the present hirsute age. Tiptoft, however, like many 
other great men, was in advance of his time. The more his beard 
subjected him to annoyance, the more he cherished and cultivated 
it. Rumors were even current that he put it into curl-papers when 
he went to bed, as a Chinese lady coils her finger-nails round her 
wrists, for fear thpse tokens of her utter incapacity for menial la- 
bour should be injured. 

The most cutting remark ever overheard by Tiptoft upon the 
ornament of his chin was the naive exclamation of a top-booted 
countryman he met near the Inn. “Dang m^ bootens! ” cried the 
man; “if there bean’t a chap as ha’ bolted a varmint, and couldn’t 
s waller the brush ! ” 

When I add that Tiptoft had the utmost faith in his qualifica- 
tions as a lady-killer, firmly believing it was not in the power of 
woman to resist his charms, I have said all respectingiiiis appearance 
and character we need for the pr'^sent. 

The occupant of the private room, sitting at a table beside the 
window opening letters, was a personage cast in a very different 
mould. Of middle height and full across the chest and shoulders, 
his figure showed the vigour and strength which characterise a 
healthy man in the prime oPlife. Piercing grey eyes lurked beneath 
thick black overhanging brows, which generally veiled their gaze; 
but in moments of excitement the curtain flew up, and the orbs 
seemed to dart fire. An aquiline nose rose over a pair of thin, 
tightly compressed lips and a strongly-marked chin. The face was 
closely shaven and the hair of the head cut short. 

The impression you derived from the first sight of this man was 
of exceeding energy and determination, kept well in hand and 
thoroughly subordinated to will. When you knew him longer, you 
found him to possess extraordinary fertility of resource and a 
strength of character, combined with an utter disregard of con- 
sequences, which made you most chary of opposing Albany Stark. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGA 


25 


Clever, tin{?crupulous, selfish, but cold as an iceberg, with abili- 
ties which were a source of envy and admiration to those with 
whom he came in contact, the grand defect in his moral composition 
was a want of heart. Anatomically speaking, no doubt that organ 
was in the usual sfjot common to all the sons and daughters of men, 
but although it performed the ordinary functions of a double-action 
blood-pump, witn utideviating regularity, it never pulsated one beat 
the quicker with a single kindly feeling towards any human soul. 
He had no charity, no sympathy, no affections. He stood alone n 
the world, amidst the va»t multitude that peoples the earth. He 
did not even pocjsess the love of a dog. A drearier position I think 
it is impossible to conceive. 

His great ambition was the exercise of power. He ruled men 
through their weaknesses, or governed them by a knowledge of 
their crimes. He often forced a subordinate to do something ex- 
ceedingly distasteful for the mere pleasure of letting the man feel 
the rod, and when the object was gained cast it away or let it slip 
through carelessness. His acts were often so wantonly malicious 
as to lead to a suspicion that he was either mad, or had suffered 
some fearful wrong at the hands of society for which he wreaked 
indiscriminate vengeance upon all mankind. 

This was the man now sitting by the window at his morning 
task of reading his numerous letters. One contained news of a 
speculation in which he had embarked having unexpectedly proved 
an enormous success. He laid aside the paper without a comment 
or a sparkle of the eye. The next gave him intelligence of a catas- 
trophe which had engulfed invested thousands. He treated it with 
the same indifference as its predecessor. Fortune or loss left him 
equally cold. Was he sceptic or philosopher ? 


CHAPTER II. 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER. 

Having finished the examination of his correspondence, which 
formed his regular morning’s task. Stark touched twice a small 
hand-bell standing upon the table before him. Its sharp metallic 


26 


ALBANY STABK^S REVENGB. 


ring was followed by the instant appearance of Tiptoft’s visage at 
the door. 

^^Did you call, sir? ’’ asked the clerk. 

“ Yes. Has Caj)tain Blaiide been here this morning ? 

‘‘Not yet, sir. I expect him in every minute.’^ 

“Directl3^ he comes, say I wish to see him.” 

“I will, sir.” 

Nat closed the door gently, with an air of profound respect; 
then, standing in front of the empty grate in the counting-house 
with uplifted coat-tails, indulged in cynical soliloquy. 

“What precious bit of rascality is he a-going into now again, I 
wonder? Something’s up, I see. If anybody can read old Black- 
face’s physog. correctly, ’tis this child. Jolly berth that of Captain 
Blande — precious deal jollier than mine, anyhow. Cutting about 
the country on all sorts of missions, expenses paid, best of every- 
thing, taking his time, doing just a.s he likes. By Jove, it’s as good 
as being a regular gentleman at once. Yet I don’t know, neither. 
Blackface’s confidence can’t be such a very cheerful sort of thing to 
enjoy. He’s a mighty sharp tongue of his own when matters don’t 
turn out to his liking. The way I’ve heard him blackguard that 
unlucky captain sometimes would be rather more than I could 
stand. Oh, there he is. Morning, Captain ; governor’s been asking 
for you.” 

“Very good, Tiptoft,” was the new-comer’s reply, as he came for- 
ward. “How is the temper this morning ? ” 

“ Oh, seems all right. At any rate, not worse than usual.” 

“Which is not saying much, eh? Well, I must take my chance.” 

His hand was on the private door as he spoke, and he stood 
next moment in the presence of Albany Stark. 

The master replied to his subordinate’s greeting with a grunt 
that might mean either welcome or the reverse. Dropping quietly 
into a chair, the young man awaited his principal’s leisure. 

Albany Stark was turning over the pages of a small waste-book, 
upon the leaves of which were pasted various printed slips. They 
were apparently cuttings from newspapers, of no very recent date, 
for paper and printers’ ink, like men, turn yellow and fade with age. 
Little need did there seem to be, in truth, for the careful re-perusal 
to which their collector now subjected these extracts. The leaves of 
the little book were thumbed and creased, as with much and fre- 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVBNGB. 


27 

qiient handling. I should scarcely exaggerate, I think, were I to 
say he knew neatly every line of them by rote; certainly every in- 
cident, every turn of expression they contained was bitten in upion 
his heart. Often and often, throughout the long and weary lapse 
of years — in the lagging hours of the sleepless night, at leisure in- 
tervals during the busy day, traveling on land, tossing upon the 
sea — when even his strong purpose faltered and his courage drooped, 
he had turned to these records of a byegone wrong, and had risen, 
refreshed, from his draught of hate. Such might have been his ob- 
ject now, while his young companion vratched him keenly. 

Oliver Blande was a tall, well-looking young fellow of about 
twenty-five, with dark hair, eyes, and whiskers, and a daintily 
trimmed moustache, from under which his white and even teeth 
shone out like pearls. Easy and natural in manners, it was plain 
he had either seen much of what is called “good ’’ society, or origi- 
nally belonged to that favored section of the community by birth. 
His position in the singular establishment of Albany Stark will de- 
velope itself as we proceed. 

Stark looked up suddenly from his task, and caught Oliver’s eye 
fixed upon him with an expression of strong curiosity. A frown 
contracted his brows. 

“ Inquisitive, eh, young Telemachus?” he rolled out in a harsh, 
discordant voice. “ Beware ! There aresecrets better left unlearnt.’’ 

“I dare say I shall know as much of this one as Mentor thinks 
good,’’ returned Oliver, gaily. “Anything for me to do ? ” 

“Yes, a difficult and a delicate mission. To save unnecessary 
talk, however — which I hate — first read carefully through the story 
these pages unfold.” 

He pushed over to Oliver the book he had just been inspecting. 
The young man took it eagerly, and rapidly ran through the leaves. 
Stark in his turn stealthily watching him from underneath his 
bushy brows. 

“A singular business,” remarked Oliver, presently looking up. 
“Was the fellow never caught after whom all this hue and cry was 
raised ? ” 

“Never. But the day of reckoning is not far off. For reasons of 
my own — which I may tell you some day — I have taken up the clue, 
and am going to put you upon his track. The hunt will be difficult. 


28 


ALBANY stabiles REVBNGL. 


may be dangerous, but I rely upon the cleverness I know you can 
exert when you choose, to carry it to a successful close.” 

“Delighted to hear it, I’m sure,” returned Oliver with sparkling 
eyes. “I’m sick of knocking about town, want excitement, and a 
little danger will give additional interest.” 

“Yes,” replied Stark, slowly, with an indefinable glitterjin his cold 
grey eye. “You don’t want pluck. Young Oliver. But this is a 
business rather requiring discretion than energy. Rashness would 
defeat the object I have in view. As an incentive, by the way, I may 
as well tell 3^ou that if, through your means, this affair is brought 
to a successful close, I will let you have those papers you know of, 
for which you have asked so often.” 

“You will?” cried Oliver, jumping up from his chair, excitedly. 
“Then consider it done. Mind, I have your promise.” 

“Which shall be kept to the letter. Now, listen. The hero (or 
villain, if you like) of that little episode you have just perused — the 
man there called Grey — has been settled for years in Jamaica, where 
he made a wealthy marriage. Still carrying on his old profession, 
he has, I hear, amassed a considerable fortune. Grown tired of the 
sea, he is on the point of returning to England, and will probably 
reach Southampton by the next West Indian steamer. The name 
he now bears— his true name, mind, for he has had many aliases — is 
Ralph Lee. You are paying attention, I hope ? ” 

“Go on, go on,” returned Oliver, earnestly. “Every word you 
have uttered has sunk deep into my heart. Fear no carelessness 
from me. The stake is too large, too eagerly longed for, to risk its 
loss.” 

Stark’s lips curled into a sardonic smile as he resumed. 

“Go to Southampton, and wait this man’s arrival. Spare no 
effort to make his acquaintance and insinuate yourself into his con- 
fidence. It is probable, though of this I cannot speak with cer- 
tainty, that he will go directly after landing to a place in Norfolk, 
called Thorne, near which he has relatives. Ascertain, if you can, 
what his future movements are likely to be, and report at once to 
me. Do you fully understand ? ” 

“ Thoroughly. When shall I start ? ” 

“At once. No — ^let me see. This is Tuesday, and the steamer is 
not due till the end of tbe week. Leave on Friday morning, and 
>'0U will be in ample time. In one respect I wish you to be especially 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


29 


cautious. Spoil nothing by being premature. Unless you see a very 
favourable opportunity to get introduced, postpone the attempt, 
but still keep your man in view. Take no important step without 
consulting me. Remember, success or failure in this matter makes 
or mars your future. Look in again before you leave; something 
may occur to me I have forgotten now. Good day.’^ 

Oliver Blande left his principal’s room with a light and agile 
step. The task allotted, difficult and uncongenial as it might seem 
to many, was not so to him. Strong in his own resources, con- 
scious of the charm of manner few possessed to a higher degree, he 
had little doubt of accomplishing his mission to the full satisfaction 
of his employer. The recompense promised for success was a boon 
he ardently desired — nothing less, in fact, than the ability to destroy 
evidence of youthful folly which had riveted the chain by which he 
was held in thrall. The opportunity he had so often sighed for was 
within his grasp. What wonder that his step was activ’e and his 
heart light, and that he hummed the first bars of a jovial ditty as 
he tripped merrily down the stairs ? 

How often afterwards he looked back upon and bitterly cursed 
that hour! 

Albany Stark sat meantime in the inner room, his eyes fixed 
upon the door through which his companion had. just gone forth. 
Presently he spoke. 

“I feel,” he said, slowly, in a low deep voice, “I feel like a clever 
inventor who has spent years — a generation — in constructing an 
entirely new machine, upon a principle hitherto untried. My hand 
still grasps the lever which has set it in motion, and endowed dull 
brass and iron with the capabilities of life. As yet, I know not how 
my engine will work. It may fulfil my wildest expectations, may 
accomplish all, and more than I have ever dared to hope. Or, there 
may be some fatal error in its principle, and at the moment I attempt 
to gather in the harvest of many patient years, my instrument may 
shiver in my grasp. Yet, even now, at this last moment, a kind of 
foolish compunction comes over meat making him— this boy — my 
unconscious tool. Has he not been injured enough already ? What 
has he done to deserve so terrible a fate ? I almost feel inclined ” 

His gloomy eyes sought the carpet, and gazed upon its dull and 
trodden-out pattern as intensely as if the faded squares could afford 
hini any solution of his doqbts. Rising them ^t last, his glance fell 


30 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


upon the little waste-book with the printed extracts lying before 
him on the table. Without a sound issuing from between them, his 
lips drew up into a kind of doglike snarl, and showed his yellow, 
firmly clenched teeth. He snatched up the book, struck fiercely over 
its pages with a hasty hand, then threw it from him to the other 
end of the room with a tremendous curse. 

•‘No! he snarled, savagely. “ No drawing back now — no flinch- 
ing. The plan shall be carried out to its minutest detail. Mercy to 
none; least of all to the inhuman monster who showed none to me. 
Ruin, disgrace, perdition be his lot, and that of all whose fortunes 
are in any way bound up with his.” 


CHAPTER III. 

RISING IN THE WORLD. 

Before pursuing Oliver Blande’s proceedings further, we must 
take a short glance backwards at other persons noticed in the pre- 
lude to this history. When Annis Lee told he lover of the happy 
change in their prospects through the money left in her charge by her 
brother Ralph, that despondent youth at first entirely refused belief. 
He was a doomed man, he declared, marked out for ill-luck, in 
whose hand nothing was fated to prosper. Better he should go 
away and end his miserable life among furriners. 

The sight of the bank-notes, which Annis waved triumphantly 
before him, the sound of their crisp rustle, so peculiar yet so pleasant, 
while it forced him to credit their existence, suggested to his self-tor- 
menting ingenuity further doubts. 

How did Annis know, moaned Edward, that the money was 
honestly come by? Ralph said he’d won it in the lottery, but thiit 
was a curious story — hardly likely to be true. Why did Ralph urge 
secrecy about the source whence all this fortune was derived ? If his 
accou’nt of the affair was correct, there was nothing to be ashamed 
of, nothing to keep silence about, nothing to hide. He could n’t help 
thinking some rightful owner for the money would turn up, and 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE, 


31 


supposing they made use of it as Ralph desired, what on earth was 
to be done then? Having tasted of the sweets of prosperity for a 
little while, renunciation of their pleasures would be tenfold harder 
than if they had never been enjoyed. No, it was all no use; he was 
a miserable man, doomed to ill luck; and so forth. 

Annis had a hard task to combat her doleful lover’s scruples, 
but she succeeded in overcoming them at last. She obtained a 
promise from him that if, after waiting another year, no claimant 
with an undoubted right to the four thousand pounds presented 
himself, he would no longer object to be made happy. Her expecta- 
tions being fulfilled by no demander coming forward within the 
stipulated time, Edward surrendered his misgivings, and the marri- 
age took place. 

Immediately after the wedding Blythe gave up his situation as 
bailiff to the Squire of Thorne, and looked about for a comfortable 
little farm on which to settle. This Elysium he discovered in a small 
freehold called the Grange, a couple of miles from Past on village, it- 
self some distance from Thorne. Shrewish and discontented Mrs. 
Lee took up her abode with her daughter and son-in-law. The 
brutal attack of Farmer Crowe upon Annis had entirely altered 
her mother’s opinion of his matrimonial merits, and when her 
daughter told of Ralph’s generosity, the old lady was the most eager 
advocate for the despised match. 

The years that had elapsed since marriage had been for Edward 
and Annis Blythe, upon the whole, years of happiness and peace. 
Mrs. Lee slept in Paston churchyard. Ill-natured folks opined that 
cessation /rom grumbling and prophesying misfortune severed her 
only tie to life. Yet she had lived long enough to see her daughter’s 
children playing round her knees, to scold the mischievous imps for 
hiding her spectacles and snuff. 

Of all the children born into the farmer’s household, one only 
reached maturity. William Blythe was now a good-looking young 
fellow, verging upon twenty-three. From his father he inherited 
stalwart thews and a powerful frame ; from his mother, energy, 
patience, and good sense. The mixture produced the phoenix which 
grows rarer daily — an honest, genuine, right-thinking young fellow, 
sound to the heart’s core. 

The judicious investment of Ralph Lee’s four thousand pounds 
brought forth abundant fruit. Guided by his wife’s far-sighted 


32 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


prudence and clear head, Edward’s industry soon doubled the value 
of his farm. Year by year the returns swelled, and the balance in 
the bank at Lynn waxed. Waxed but was not employed to profit. 
Like the talent wrapt in the napkin, it was kept to hoard. 

This was perhaps the only point upon which Annis’s wishes were 
not paramount with her husband. She would have turned their 
added wealth to others’ use as well as to their own. Not in the 
foolish way of indiscriminate and lavish alms, falsely called charity, 
but in reality a cruel perversion of that noble name. The feeble 
good-nature that hastily bestows without examination into desert, 
because to give is easier than to refuse, then plumes itself upon 
benevolence, is mischievous and blind. Blind, when its possessor 
dreams he can thus hoodwink the All seeing; mischievous, because 
the most devilish ingenuity never invented a more effectual contri- 
vance to perpetuate a pauper race. 

Clear-headed Annis would have sown her husband’s opulence 
-upon more fruitful soil. Willingly and liberally as she would have 
succored the helpless young, the sick, the aged, the infirm — the 
veritable objects of the charity, whose better name is love— she 
would have given the sturdy, able-bodied suppliant nought but 
Work. She would have taught him to earn, and not to beg, his 
bread. She would have given him the means to secure health, con- 
tent, and self-respect, a firm step, an upright carriage, an unabashed 
eye, and an open front. She would have restored her needy brother 
to what he was when he came fresh from the hand of Him who 
created humanity in His own image, but to which indiscriminate 
alms giving, alternate snubbing and petting, and the Poof Law 
have done their evil best to render him as unlike as an elephant is to 
a grasshopper. She would have made of him a Man ! 

But Edward held the purse-strings, and kept them tightly tied 
in the hardest of hard knots. It was difficult enough to extract from 
him what was urgently required for^household wants. To philan- 
thropic notions, involving present outlay, he was entirely deaf. Yet 
in spite of his avarice, he was what the world calls a strictly honor- 
able man. His debts were discharged with unvarying regularity, 
his bills met the moment they fell due. Nobody could ever say he 
had been defrauded of a farthing by Edward Blythe. He was rigid, 
punctual, and just in all his dealings— strictly just ; only not liberal. 

So the family liyed on at Paston, rising slowly but surely in the 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


33 


social scale. William assisted his father in managing the farm. 
Annis looked after household affairs, and made the Grange home in 
its best and truest sense. 

Of her brother Annis had know little since the evening when we 
saw them part. Ralph Lee had never visited England again, but 
occasionally, at intervals of years, a letter would reach his sister 
from some distant port, containing little more than the intelligence 
that he was alive and well. 

By this means Annis knew that he had long been married, and 
was a father. His wife, wrote Ralph, was a \\/’est Indian lady, 
possessing considerable fortune and a plantation in Jamaica. 
Although now independent of his profession, he did not intend to 
give up the sea, but should henceforth command his own ship, and 
trade between his new home and the East. 

After that time communication between them grew more frequent . 
Annis coresponded with her sister-in-law, and heard from Ralph 
whenever he came home from sea. She came to learn some details 
of his family life, and wondered at the sadness which seemed to 
brood over his household. Mrs. Lee wrote in a strain of despondent 
melancholy which Annis could not understand. It was clear there 
was a skeleton somewhere in the house, but the distance between 
brother and sister shut out all chance of guessing its origin. 

It seemed however as if the mystery were likely to be cleared up. 
Ralph had been married about nineteen years when he suddenly an- 
nounced his intention of quitting the sea, leaving his estates in J amaica 
under the care of an overseer, and coming to settle in England near 
Lynn. He gave no reason for the change, further than a vague hint 
that he was tired of a sea-faring life. 

The news produced a vast excitement at the Grange. Annis was 
enchanted at the prospect of once more seeing Ralph. She looked 
forward with delight to making the acquaintance in person with 
her sister-in-law and niece which she had already commenced on paper. 

Her husband and son awaited the arrival of their relatives with 
varied feelings. The elder man would have been unfeignedly pleased 
to renew intercourse with his old friend and benefactor but for a 
haunting fear the reason of which we shall presently see. Another 
cause of alarm was lest he might be called upon to refund the sum 
left by Ralph Lee in his sister’s charge. The passion of money-keep- 
ing had taken so strong a hold upon Edward Blythe that though 


34 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


he could have repaid the £4,000 without serious embarrassment, 
the idea of parting with so much at once was hardly to be borne. 

Will Blythe was charmed with the prospect of at last coming to 
know this mysterious uncle, of whom he had heard so much. Specu- 
lation as to what sort of a girl his cousin Guenever might be, also 
occupied his mind. As for the money, I verily believe he never 
thought of it at all. 


CHAPTERIV. 

OLD JOSH. 

A quarter of a mile from the end of Paston village nearest to 
the Grange, and within an easy half-hour’s walk from the farm, 
stood a small, isolated cottage. A humble dwelling enough, yet the 
abode of a personage commanding no little amount of reverence and 
respect among the villagers. 

I should premise perhaps by saying that Paston was one of those 
unsophisticated spots, growing daily scarcer throughout Britian, 
where the steam-whistle had not yet pierced the ear, the rush of the 
locomotive §tartled the unaccustomed eye. The nearest railway 
station was Woodbridge, thirteen miles away, whence, coming, let 
us say from the metropolis, j’^ou could only get to Paston through 
the medium of a horse’s legs or your own. This freedom from rail- 
way contamination, looked upon by the stay-at-home Pastonians 
as a boon for which they could never be sufficiently grateful, yet 
possessed its drawbacks. If it kept off intruders, it also excluded 
progress. Foolish and antiquated prejudices, superstitions, igno- 
rance, barbarism, and brutality flee away from the tramp of the 
steam-horse, as fogs roll up and vanish into mist before the sun. It 
may not be agreeable to be startled for self-preservation into activ- 
ity by competition, when it is so much easier to go on dreaming 
along the hum-drum road of antiquated routine, but there can be 
little question of the benefit of the process to all parties in the end. 

The inhabitants of Paston however reasoned— if their rustic 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


35 


brains ever succeeded in accomplishing that exercise at all — in a 
different way. “ What did for my feayther dl do very well for me, 
and I doan’t like your new-fangled notions,” was the universal 
motto and rule of action. The argument that has always kept men 
poor and ignorant and narrow-minded, coupled with the disinclina- 
tion to strike into a bold and unknown track when it is so much 
softer walking among the old familiar path, was used by the villag- 
ers to smite all revolutionary notions dead. 

Now and then, it is true, some adventurous spirit would emerge 
from the dead level of Paston inertness into the busy world of 
activity and life without, but these renegades were invariably used 
by the elders of the community as frightful examples to “point a 
moral or adorn a tale ” whenever a junior showed symptoms of an 
inclination to rebel. There was an awkwardness about this system, 
however, when, as occasionally happened, the renegade paid a visit 
to his native place well-dressed, healthy, prosperous, and apparently 
thriving. Then the croakers were forced to take refuge in inuendoes 
and advice to wait a while and see what would be the end of it all ; 
they only hoped everything might turn out for the best ; for their 
parts, they feared, &c., &c., with quivers full of the same ingenious 
shafts which Spite and Malice are never at a loss to launch. 

The connection of the inhabitants of the little cottage outside 
the village with these remarks wa.%ithis: Josiah Rich — commonly 
called Old Josh — combined in his single person the distinction of 
having formerly been the pet frightful example of the Pastonian 
elders, with being now the secret envy and delight ofthe junior, ever 
restless yet ever home-clinging, branches of the community. 

When Josh was a sturdy lad verging upon eighteen his days 
were passed in wielding the hammer and playing the bellows at his 
master’s, the village blacksmith’s, forge. Of evenings the young man 
continued his vocation, working at a private smithery of his own 
where Cupid blew the bellows and tipped the darts, while Josh Rich 
laboured infinitely harder than by day at welding into an indis- 
soluble mass his own stout heart and the skittish organ of pretty 
Patty Bowels, the daughter of the schoolmaster and parish clerk. 
As evil luck would have it, just at this very time the Corsican ogre — 
as our rude forefathers styled the great progenitor of the large-nosed 
little gentleman who, far too astute to repeat his ancestor’s blunders, 
is now our intimate and cordial ally — was marshalling his hosts to 


3a 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


swallow at a gulp devoted Britain, and all true English hearts were 
rallying to the rescue. Which brought about — so intimately con- 
nected are great events with small — that fifes and drums were heard 
and the ribbons of the recruitingsergeant flattered in Paston village. 

The seductive eloquence of the representative of Mars, aided by 
a slight quarrel the previous evening with the changeable Patty, 
induced young Vulcan to abandon the forge and take His Majesty’s 
shilling. Being still an apprentice, he could not legally be ’listed ; 
but the times were grave, men urgently wanted, and country jus- 
tices both blind and deaf when occasion required. The recruit was 
attested, and, in spite of the tears and protestations of Patty 
Bowles — who, as matter of feminine privilege, naturally altered her 
mind when the operation came too late — marched, to the tune of 
‘‘The Girls we left Behind us,” sturdily away. 

For years nobody at Paston heard anything of Josh. The 
Corsican ogre abandoned his design of swollowing the “tight 
little island,” buried a million gallant fellows among Russian 
snows, lost Leipzig, was sent to Elba, escaped, and set the world in 
flames again for a Hundred Days until Wellington finally quenched 
the conflagration in blood at Waterloo. Still, nobody at Paston 
knew anything of Josh. It was then he began to be first quoted by 
the elders as a frightful example, and set up as a scarecrow to awe 
the discontented into peace. 

Suddenly, about the year l520, a tall, bronzed, well-set up per- 
sonage, with a white sabre-scar across his cheek, wearing the uni- 
form of a sergeant of the line, appeared at Paston. The prodigal 
son had returned. It Avas now for the juniors to point to the fruits 
of daring and successful enterprise, while the croaking elders hid their 
diminished heads. Feted like a Conquering Hero, as he was, the 
sergeant passed his furlough in the village, the admiration and envy 
of the men, the idol of the women, the oracle of all. His former 
flame shed tears of repentant despair as she contrasted the sergeant’s 
upright, martial form with the slouching figure cf the spouse in 
whose arms she had sought consolation. The sergeant himself just 
ran his eye critically over her faded lineaments and the half-dozen 
children who peeped shyly atthe “sodjer ” from behind their mother’s 
skirt’s, then spun round upon his heel with a whistle of content at 
his escape. 

Well, the sergeant came, and the sergeant went away — to Canada, 


ALBANY STARK'S REVBNGl^. 


37 


to Australia, to India and the Cape, half over the world, wherever 
duty called, living a jolly, free-and-easy, military bachelor’s life, 
liked by his comrades, esteemed by his superiors, falling in and out 
of love, courting, kissing, and flirting, fighting and cricketing, as an 
Englishman considers it indispensable to the national honor to do 
in every clime, while Paston folk returned to their usual avocations, 
and one day succeeded anotherin the ordinary, dull,unvaryinground, 
until the time arrived when Sergeant-major Rich, growing tired of 
the career so many of his village contemporaries would have given 
their ears to run, came back to rest upon his laurels in the quite and 
peaceful haven where first he drew his breath. 

The sergeant-major at this time was over fifty years of age. His 
own contemporaries had mostly passed away, and a younger gen- 
eration, just as ignorant, as prejudiced, as bigoted, and as supersti- 
tious as its defunct predecessors, reigned in their stead. This was 
the natural effect of seclusion and holding aloof, and not being re- 
vitalized by fresh blood from without. But it presented just the field' 
in which the sergeant-major — metamorphosed now into Old Josh — 
preferred to work. Nobod3^ in Paston had seen as much of the world! 
as he, nobody knew as much of life or had gone through so many 
wonderful adventures; nobody, therefore, could contradict what- 
ever he chose to advance, or take him up when he tripped. Inde- 
pendent enough, by his pension and wounds-money, to live accord- 
ing to his own fashion, the sergeant-major set up as the Village 
Oracle, and in that capacity held despotic sway over the Pastonian 
mind. The successor of his old master, the village blacksmith, dying 
some years after Josh’s return, and no one being ac the moment 
prepared to succeed him, the veteran was induced to resume his 
ancient occupation. Importing a journeyman and a couple of 
apprentices, and confining his own labours to general superin- 
tendence, the possession of the forge added to his importance in the 
village without trenching upon his leisure. 

Had Josh received a better education, he might have won his 
spurs as an orator or a writer, for he was glib of speech and had 
great powers of imagination. He would have made an admirable 
counsel, bullying a timid witness into contradiction and unconscious 
perjury. But these opportunities for distinction had been denied 
him. Fate and the Corsican ogre, the recruiting sergeant and Patty 
Bowles, had conspired to make Josh Rich a retired sergeant-major,. 


38 


ALBANY STARK'S REVBNGB. 


and Paston formed the scene upon which his principal exploits in 
this history were achieved. 

This worthy, as your worship’s perspicuity has of course 
already divined, was the inhabitant of the little cottage hard by 
Paston. He had occupied the proud position of Village Oracle for 
some years before the announcement of Ralph Lee’s return. He was 
on intimate terms with the family at the Grange, and had an intense 
respect for Annis. 

“’T is ever such a pity Madam Blythe’s a female,” old Josh 
would observe over a confidential pipe to his friends at the Welling- 
ton’s Head. “She ’d ha’ made a first-rate colonel o’ the ridgment.” 

Higher praise it was not in the sergeant-major’s power to be- 
stow. 


CHAPTER V. 

SPECULATION. 

It was said some pages back that Edward Blythe had two par- 
ticular and special reasons for dreading his brother-in-law’s return. 

One cause — the only ground suspected by Annis, and by her 
indeed only dimly imagined — was the farmer’s reluctance to refund 
the sum which had laid the foundations of his prosperity upon a 
secure basis. But there was another, and a far more damaging 
reason, at which Annis did not even guess. 

Dating from the time that Ralph Lee had first conceived the idea 
of returning home, he had at intervals sent over various sums of 
money for investment in the English funds. Of these amounts 
Edward Blythe had been the recipient, his brother-in-law ‘:onceiving 
that the former was a far better man of business than he. Sincerely 
desirous to employ the money thus placed in his keeping to the best 
advantage, Blythe had taken counsel’s opinion upon the matter, 
applying for advice to a sharp and not over-scrupulous attorney in 
Thome. 

This worthy gentleman by Act of Parliament, learning Ralph’s 


ALBANV STARK^S REVENGE, 


39 


desire that his remittances should be placed in Consols, held up his 
hands in pious horror at so antiquated a monetary creed. It would be a 
positive sin, declared Mr. Wylie — a class-leader of the Peculiar Bap- 
tist connection — to cast away the excellent opportunity of employ- 
ing so much capital to great worldly profit. Neglect to extract the 
largest amount of benefit from the perishable creatures placed with- 
in man^s reach was as criminal as waste. Both were extravagance, 
and equally to be condemned. Wherefore, it was his decided opinion 
that the best way of using the money would be to lend it out upon 
safe mortgage at high interest. 

Noting perhaps some slight reluctance in his client to act against 
Ralph Lee’s orders, which were positive as to the nature of the 
security in which his money was to be placed, crafty and pious Mr. 
Wylie went a little step further, and filched an article from Jesuit 
tenets. The shape in which he embodied the doctrine that it is 
highly praiseworthy to do fevil that good may result, presented an 
inducement impossible for a man of Edward Blythe’s peculiar cha- 
racter to resist There was not the faintest occasion, suggested Mr. 
Wylie, to let Captain Lee know that his wishes had been contravened. 
Suppose the money lent upon short mortgage — say, capable of being 
called in at a month’s notice — there would always be time enough to 
transfer the investment to Consols, when it was known Ralph 
really intended to return. The difference of interest between the two 
species of investment Mr. Wylie proposed to share, as commission, 
with the client who introduced the transaction to his notice. In 
other words the attorney offered Edward an annual bribe of some 
£250, for theuseof the trust-money placed in his hands by Ralph Lee. 

The bait took. Hooks gilded so attractively rarely fail to find 
greedy gorgers. As a matter of course, Mr. Wylie knew precisely 
the kind of mortgage — “ Safe, my dear sir, as houses; stable as the 
Bank” — suited for the operation he advised, and in a very brief 
space of time Ralph Lee’s ten thousand pounds had passed into the 
Peculiar Baptist class-leader’s possession. 

For some twelve months, matters went on with apparently per- 
fect success. It would not suit Mr. Wylie’s object to excite pre- 
mature alarm. Edward received his share of the plunder punctually 
and chuckled exceedingly at his own and his coadjutor’s amazing 
’cuteness. Still, a kind of secret consciousness that all was not as it 
should be prevented his giving Annis any hint of the affair. 


40 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


But with the beginning of the second year came storm. Ralph’s 
announcement of his almost immediate return cast consternation 
into Edward Blythe’s mind. He hurried in alarm to communicate 
the unwelcome tidings to his confederate, but was agreeably relieved 
to find that worthy gentleman receive the news with perfect 
equanimity. 

“Captain returns in six weeks, you say?” observed the class- 
leader, calmly. “Well, it’s pity, but we shall have plenty of time. 
I’ll take the necessary steps to call in the amount at once. See now 
how good it was you took my advice. Captain Lee has received the 
interest he wished for ; you are some hundreds in pocket ; while I 
have been mercifully enabled to assist many necessitous brethren. 
The sanction of an approving conscience, my dear sir, is the best in- 
vestment we perishable mortals can desire.” 

Edward left his disinterested adviser’s office with a mind far 
more tranquil than when he had entered its doors. But his uneasi- 
ness returned when, riding three days afterwards through Thorne, 
he found the office closed and its proprietor absent. Pressing bus- 
iness, Mr. Wylie’s housekeeper said, had called her master to town. 
Imagining he knew what that business must be, Edward went away 
consoled. A vague feeling of impending trouble however brought 
him to Thorne within the week. Nothing had been heard of Mr. 
Wylie. 

The same answer was returned for a fortnight, when all his doubts 
and fears were ended by a note shown him by the house-keeper as 
just received. In this epistle her master announced that he should 
not return, discharged her from his service, and made her a present 
of his office furniture and effects in lieu of wages. “ If any person in- 
quires after me,” were Mr. Wylie’s parting words, “3^011 may tell 
him, with my kindest regards, that I may perhaps be heard of near 
Jericho.” 

You see now what exceedingly good reason Edward Blythe had 
to apprehend his brother-in-law’s return. Even had he been willing 
to repay the original sum advanced to Annis — which was not by any 
means the case — it was hopeless to dream of replacing the trust- 
money out of which he had been so cleverly swindled by the sancti- 
monious Mr. Wylie. Nor did he imagine he could set up a claim to 
Ralph’s consideration by revealing the true state of affairs. For he 
took it as certain that Ralph would inevitably point out that the 


Albany sfAkk'B rUVMGB. 


41 


misfortune had arisen from nothing else than his own inexcusable 
greediness. 

To his mind — warped and distorted by one of the ugliest passions 
that disgrace humanity — the straightforward road out of his diffi- 
culties never for a moment presented itself. Knowing that he would 
have exacted to the uttermost farthing, and at any cost of distress, 
any sum to which he could lay claim, even were it from his nearest 
relative, he could not conceive of Ralph Lee’s forbearance. A man 
less actuated by the greed of gain would have at once perceived how 
unlikely the sailor was to make hard conditions. The return of the 
original sum he would never have required at all, regarding it as a 
dowry given — and freely given — to his sister as a marriage portion. 
Theloss of the second amount he might have regarded as vexatiously 
willful, but being still in possession of considerable wealth, it was far 
more probable he would have passed it over with a few sharp words, 
had Edward frankly written him a candid account of the whole 
transaction, and admitted his fault. 

But the farmer took a different course; and, as commonly hap- 
pens in this life, the worst suffering, and that hardest to be borne, 
thereby fell less upon himself then upon innocent persons who had 
given no offence. 

Two different sets of personages, each with verj*” different feelings 
and aims, were therefore awaiting Ralph Lee’s arrival at Southhamp- 
ton by the West India packet. 

Albany Stark, with the mysterious and long-standing injury of 
years rankling in his heart, stood ready in London to slip his blood- 
hound, Oliver Blande, out of leash the moment he caught scent of his 
prey. 

In the Blythe family at Paston, mother and son were eager for 
their relatives’ coming, while the father looked forward to the event 
with some such feelings as a guilty criminal sees drav^ing daily 
nearer the dreaded hour of trial. 


42 


ALBANY STARK'S RLVBJStGB. 


CHAPTER VI. 

TEMPER. 

Thirty years ago, it may not be amiss to remind yonr erudition, 
when steam communication both on land and by sea was just begin- 
ning to make its vast advantages felt, the facilities for landing at 
even well-frequented English ports were very inferior to what they 
arc now. At Southampton,, where the present docks did not exist, 
this was especially the case. Ocean steamers, after passing up the 
Solent and entering Southampton Water, were, I am told, in the 
habit of dropping anchor a little distance off the town, to which 
passengers were conveyed, with bag and baggage, in boats. 

It is necessary to bear this fact in mind, to have a clear idea how 
certain events about to be narrated came to pass. 

One fine afternoon early in April — the Saturday of the week when 
we first made acquaintance with Albany Stark — a large steamer 
was slowly paddling up Southampton Water. It was the West India 
packet by which Captain Ralph Lee and his family were expected to 
arrive. Delighted at the prospect of once more setting foot on land, 
those hardy passengers who had eaten their dinners daily through- 
out the passage without fear of untoward results, crowded the deck, 
and gazed eagerly around. No less desirous of their run ashore, the 
crew were busily engaged in furling sails, coiling ropes, hoisting lug- 
gage from the hold, and making every preparation to get clear of 
the ship. Roused by the general bustle and animation, the last pale, 
languid, greenish-hued faces werelogging up the companion. Boats 
containing passengers’ friends, watermen, and hotel touts were 
swarming venturously round the steamer, and being warned by the 
captain with many expletives to keep clear of the wheels. Shouts, 
greetings, cries of recognition and welcome filled the air. Everybody 
was busy, excited, and confused, and ran in everybody else’s way, 
while the black cook thrust his wooly head out of the caboose, and 
grinned in mute sympathy with the unusual noise. 

A little gi'oup upon the poop of the steamer alone took no part 
in the general stir. It consisted of a tall, broad-shouldered man, 
with bronzed features and large bushy black whiskers ; a pale and 


ALBANY STABILES REVBNOB. 


43 


feeble-looking lady — but just emerged from the cabin — who leant 
upon his arm; and a blooming, bright-eyed girl, in the flush of 
woman’s early beauty. A little behind them stood a black servant, 
with a monkey sitting on his shoulder and holding tightly by the 
crisp curls of his sable pate. The negro carried the regulation 
family roll of walking-canes, umbrellas, and parasols, and held a 
cage containing a pair of shivering parroqueets. 

“Yes, yes,” answered the gentleman, impatiently, to aremark from 
his terrified companion; “of course you can’t go into all that strug- 
gling mob. You wait here while I look after a boat. Jake, a camp- 
stool for your mistress.” 

“Iss, massa,” said the negro, promptly rushing up. “Missee all 
right. Me an’ massa keep off debob-an’-ragtail. He! he! he! what 
you tink. Missy Guen. ? ” 

“We can safely leave mamma in your sole charge, Jake,” re- 
sponded the young lady, looking back as she descended the stairs 
leading to the deck. “ Papa and I will get together what luggage 
we want most. The rest can be landed to-morrow.” 

“Much the best plan, Guenever,” said the gentleman, striding 
hastily onwards. “I’ll speak to the captain at once.” 

Probably half an hour passed before the deck was sufficiently 
cleared to make it safe, in timid Mrs. Lee’s opinion, to descend from 
the post where she was carefully guarded from contact with the 
'ulgar herd by the faithful Jake. Ralph Lee’s patience had long 
been exhausted, and nothing but the murmured petitions of the girl 
who hung upon his arm had prevented his insisting upon earlier 
departure. 

“ Come now, Clara ! ” he called, irritably, up to the poop. “ There’s 
nothing more to be frightened at. The boat has been ready this 
quarter of an hour. Come along. What the deuce are you wait- 
ing for?” 

Guenever flew up the stairs to assist her mother, and with her 
encouragement and the rougher aid of Ralph’s strong arm, Mrs. Lee 
was carried, almost more than she walked, down the ladder into the 
boat waiting alongside. 

A few minutes brought the party to the side of the wharf. Be- 
ing among the last to quit the steamer, the boat containing the Lee 
family was compelled to stop some little distance off, while others 
which had preceeded were being cleared of passengers and trunks. 


44 


Albany stark's rbven6G. 


The delay in no wise tended to appease Ralph Lee’s impatience. He 
swore at the boatmen, rated them soundly for a pack of lazy swabs, 
declaring ’t was lucky for them that they ’d never served aboard his 
ship. 

“Begad!” he cried. “If I had my way, I’d trice you lubberly 
skulks up to the gratings, and see if three dozen apiece would n’t 
teach you smartness. That’s my remedy.” 

A hum of indignation rose from the crowd assembled on the 
wharf to watch the landing. Ralph threw up his head proudly, and 
ran a glance of disdain along the frowning line. 

“Ay, and a dose of the same medicine would n’t do you scoundrels 
any harm either!” he shouted. “Why don’t some of you sleepy 
dogs come down and bear a hand, instead of staring at your bet- 
ters? Come, look alive there, men. D tion! Half-a-dozen 

plantation hands ’uld do twice the work in half the time.” 

^ A laugh of derision rose from the crowd, in which the boatmen 
joined. This breach of discipline drew a fresh burst of abuse from 
Ralph. The mob yelled with amusement, not unmixed with rage. 
Hisses, shouts, and shrill whistles mingled with cries of indignation 
and revenge. 

“Yah, nigger-driver!” — “Send him back to wop his darkies in 
Jimaiky ! ”— “Duck him in the river! ” — “ Lug him ashore, and wash 
his dirty tongue clean under the pump ! ” These were some of the 
more intelligible sounds that rose above the clamor. 

Ralph Lee grew furious. Accustomed to implicit obedience and 
instant compliance with his lightest wish, the rough reception his 
own ill-temper had procured, carried him beyond the bounds of rea- 
son. Turning a deaf ear to the terrified remonstances of his wife 
and daughter, he shook his fist at his tormentors, though the excess 
of his passion would not allow him to bring out a word. The 
threatening gesture called forth a renewed outbreak of jeers and 
groans. . 

“Fetch a doctor, somebody!” cried a one-eyed ragamuffin in the 
foremost rank. “Don’t you see the gent’s a-chokin’ with his own 
wenom ? ” 

“Here, you darkey ! ” called another of the crowd to Jake. “ Make 
haste out o’ that an’ set your foot on free ground, or you’ll taste 
the cat!” 

“Yes, come along Sambo!” ejaculated a third with affected sym- 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


45 


patliy. “There ain’t no slaves in England, boy. We’ll ’mancipate 
yer, blackey ! “ 

A tall young man, well dressed and with the unmistakeable air 
of a gentleman, had succeeded in pressing to the front, and pushed 
back the most uproarious of the mob. 

“ Come, my lads, that’s enough! ” he said authoritatively. “ Let 
the gentleman land now. Don’t you see the ladies are terrified ? No 
true Englishman can wish to frighten women. Stand back ! ’’ 

“Gent could ha’ gone ashore long ago, cuss him.” growled one of 
the boatmen, apparently unable to forgive Ralph’s previous abuse, 
“if he hadn’t been so blasted high an’ mighty. Who’s he, to talk ’o 
flogging free Englishmen? — Now then, Hadmiral o’ the Blue.” 

’T is the last feather breaks even the patient camel’s back. The 
waterman’s rough banter filled the cup of Ralph Lee’s wrath to 
overflowing. Uttering a savage oath, he snatched a stretcher from 
the bottom of the boat, and rushed at the offender. Horrified Guen- 
ever caught his coat-sleeve, and tried to pull him back. Without a 
glance to see who held him, the infuriated man swung his arm be- 
hind. The blow, falling on Guenever while already staggering with 
the rocking motion of the boat, threw her off her balance. She 
made a desperate effort to regain her footing — failed — fell headlong 
with a shriek into the ri>'er, and instantly disappeared. 

For a second the crowd upon the wharf was silent with stupe- 
fied surprise. Then suddenly arose a chorus of wild cries, terrified 
shouts, exclamations of horror and dismay. Mrs. Lee fainted, and 
would have gone over the side had she not been caught by Jake. 
Recalled to his senses by the catastrophe, Ralph abandoned his at- 
tack upon the waterman, and snatched up a boat-hook. But the 
most efficient aid was rendered by the tall young man who had al- 
ready done his best to pacify the crowd. 

Without a moment’s pause, he made but one dive from the wharf 
into the rapid stream. So instantaneous was the act, that the 
plunge of his descending body was all but simultaneous with Guen- 
ever’s fall. 

The interest of the scene was now intense. Not a sound was 
heard from the previously exasperated mob. All held their breath, 
and gazed with eager eyes upon the spot where the two had gone 
down. Presently went up the shout : “There they are! He’s got 
her!” 


46 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


Two heads were seen at a little distance floating down the 
stream. Ralph and his late antagonist seized a couple of oars, and 
rowed rapidly to the spot, 

‘‘Take her! " panted the rescuer. “Quick! She has only fainted, 
I think. I can’t hold her longer; I — I’ve hurt my arm.’’ 

Hauling in the senseless girl and her preserver, they found his 
left arm hang powerless by his side. In the rapid dive, it had struck 
against a piece of floating timber, and was broken. 

I pass over the natural hurry and excitement that ensued. The 
cheers and shouts that welcomed the performer of the gallant deed 
diverted attention from the intemperate spirit which had so nearly 
caused disaster. Ralph Lee’s first care was to get his wife and 
daughter safely to the hotel where he intended to put up; his next, 
in common gratitude, to see that proper medical aid was furnished 
to his new acquaintance. Inquiring further, he found — as you have 
of course already guessed — that the man to whom he was so sig- 
nally indebted was called Oliver Blande. To his heartiest thanks 
for the service that had just been rendered, Ralph added an invita- 
tion to the Grange as soon as his young friend had in any degree re- 
covered from his hurt. The two separated with the promise of a 
speedy meeting, and an effusion of gratitude from Ralph Lee at 
which he himself was surprised. Civil speeches and compliments — 
the small change of conventional finance — formed a species of cur- 
rency he was not accustomed to lavish. 

The first part of Oliver Blande’s mission was thus successfully 
accomplished. True, it was at the cost of much personal suffering 
— and Oliver was no more enamored of pain than most men — but 
the circumstances gave him a future claim upon Ralph Lee it would 
have been difficult otherwise to acquire. We shall see in due time 
how he proceeded to turn it to account. 

Three days’ rest sufficed to recover both Mrs. Lee and Guenever 
— the feeble valetudinarian and the strong, vigorous girl — from the 
fright sustained by the one and the serious injury so nearly suffered 
by the other. Ralph’s impatient temperament could postpone de- 
parture no longer, and the party immediately set out for Thorne. 
Let us examine, in a slight retrospect, what they found upon their 
arrival. 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


4.7 


CHAPTER VII. 


SLEEP-WALKING. 

Preparations to receive the expected travelers meantime went 
on busily at the Grange. For Annis considered it as a perfectly un- 
derstood thing that her brother and his family should make her house 
their home until they set up an establishment of their own. 

The only cloud upon the pleasure with which she anticipated her 
brother’s coming was cast by moody Edward Blythe. The nearer 
the time approached, the greater grew his depression. Instead of 
attending to the duties of the farm he left their care to his son, and 
moped about the Grange with a long-drawn visage and frequent 
sighs that seemed pumped up from the very bottom of his heart. 
Annis was first puzzled, then vexed, then as nearly went into a pet 
as her equable nature would permit. 

“Why, what on earth is the matter, dear?” she exclaimed, one 
morning, a week before the West Indian steaiLcr was expected to 
reach Southampton. 

“Oh, nothing,” was the satisfactory reply. 

“Ain’t you well?” asked the wife, sympathisingly. 

“Oh yes, quite well.” 

“Then what ever makes you look so miserable ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing. I don’t know. Heigho ! ” 

A sharp rejoinder rose to the wife’s lips. She had it upon the tip 
of her tongue to advise her discontented spouse to try the effect of 
a little hard work in getting rid of his querulousness. But she ab- 
stained, and therein showed wisdom. 

The time sped on. To Annis and her son, with all their patience, 
it passed far too slowly for their eager expectation. To Edward’s 
gloomy apprehension the hours seemed to fly. 

A new phase developed itself in his malady. For when the mind 
remains persistently fixed upon one absorbing idea, broods over it 
throughout the day, dreams of it in the silent night when the ex- 
hausted brain requires repose, disease is watching, to clutch its vic- 
tim by the throat. 

Edward Blythe grew restless. He could not remain in the house. 


48 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


The atmosphere and quiet peace of home seemed odious to him. 
The sight of the preparations was more than he could bear. The 
dread that had been upon him for many weeks, of being called ui)on 
to refund both the money left in Annis’s charge and that subse- 
quently lost, assumed such huge proportions that it was never ab- 
sent from his mind. Long brooding over his position had enabled 
him to come to a resolve. Determined never to surrender those be- 
loved acquisitions of years that he now held dearer than life; con- 
sidering it utterly impossible to face his brother-in-law’s natural re- 
sentment, he had made up his mind to fly. 

Yes, to this condition idol-worship had brought once hononible 
Edward Blythe. 

When he was a poor man, living on a pittance scarcely above the 
wages of the laborers he ruled, he despaired of Fortune so bitterly 
that he was with difficulty persuaded to put forth his trembling 
hand to seize her when within his grasp. Grown wealthy, the idea 
of losing part only of his riches was so terrific that he preferred to 
sacrifice good name, conscience, and self-respect, the esteem of neigh- 
bors, the love of his wife and of his son, rather than abide the trial. 

A load seemed to have fallen from his mind when he had come 
to this dastard’s decision. He thought his difficulties already solved. 
Blind idiot! he had yet to find that the way of the transgessor is 
hard. 

He seized an opportunity of going to Lynn and drawing out his 
balance at the bank. It formed a considerable sum, and was paid 
in bank-notes of large value. He carried the notes home, and loeked 
them secretely in an old-fashioned piece of furniture, half-bookecise, 
half-secretary, that stood in the sitting-room. 

But now fresh fears arose. What if burglars, by some means ob- 
taining a hint of the prize to be obtained, were to break into the 
Grange, and carry off his treasure? The thought was madness. 
Henceforth he never left the sitting-room by da3^ and rose many 
times upon one 'pretext or another by night, to satisf3^ himself that 
the desire of his heart was safe. 

No man can long lead this kind of life with impunity. The strug- 
gles of his mind began to tell upon Edward Blythe. His eyes grew 
hollow and his visage wan; the fresh, healthy color faded out ol his 
cheek, giving place to a fitful flush, that came and went like the hue 
of q, ijian in a fever; his frame seemed dwarfed and shrunken, The 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


49 


inevitable curse that attends the sordid wretch who hoards — the 
curse of the miser — was upon him. 

Annis and William saw the change with dismay. The true cause 
of Edward Blythe’s despondency never entered their generous minds. 
Their fear was of impending disease. Like most weak-minded per- 
sons, the farmer was obstinate and stubborn. In reply to the affec- 
tionate remonstrances of his wife and son, he insisted that he was in 
perfect health, and refused to call in medical advice, demanding, with 
a querulous shriek, whether they wanted toruin him with doctoring? 

The arrival of the Lees was now expected daily. Some 
si gilt uncertainty had existed whether they would come by the 
steamer now due, or by the next, but all doubt was set at rest by a 
hasty note from Ralph, written immediately after landing. It gave 
a brief sketch of the accident, adding that they would remain a day 
or two at Southampton to enable Mrs. Lee and Guenever to recov^ r 
strength, and might be expected very shortly at the Grange. 

For this signal Edward Blythe had waited. Being now assured 
that in all human probability a brief space would see him face to 
face with the man he dreaded, he resolved to act. 

It was a sore grief to reflect that time would not allow of his 
converting the farm and stock into delightful cash, and carrying it 
away added to his store. But independently of the short interval 
before Ralph Lee’s arrival rendering this step impossible, he would 
have been unable to carry it out without arousing suspicion. 
Sorely against the grain, therefore, he sacrificed one part of his pos- 
sessions to save the rest. 

Blythe’s plan, as at present mapped out, was this. He would 
disappear in the night with his hoard, proceed to Liverpool, take 
ship for America, purchase a farm in the States, and re-commence the 
darling object of his life. Annis and William might shift for them- 
selves. If he ever thought of their future position at all, it was with 
a vague expectation that they would be assisted by Ralph. 

You see how Avarice had supplanted natural affection in this 
unhappy being’s mind. No thought of the shame and sorrow his 
desertion would occasion the affectionate wife, to whose constant 
love he owed everything that he had — no pity for the honest, manly 
son upon whose life he was about to cast an indelible blot — 
no gratitude for the benefactor by whose help he had been able to 
make for himself a station in the world — none, of th^ better feelings 


50 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


of htimanity, swayed him from his self-determined course for a mo- 
ment. Mammon had slain honor, and was about to trample on the 
corpse. 

For the last time Edward Bl3rthe laid himself by the side of his 
wife, but not to rest. Alas ! — verily for the last time ! Even now, I 
believe, had it been permitted to this infatuated creature to raise the 
veil that hides futurity, and look forward but two short hours, he 
would have started back, chastened and appalled, at the terrible 
spectacle that met his view. 

Annis was almost too happy to sleep. She tried again and again 
to engage her husband in conversation, spoke of her brother, de- 
plored Guenever’s accident but thanked heaven for its favorable 
issue, asked what time Edward thought the travelers would arrive, 
started a dozen subjects, and waited comment upon none. She was 
so overjoyed at the prospect of seeing Ralph and his family, 
that the delight of her innocent heart overflowed at her lips and 
made her forget Edward’s despondency. 

He, meanwhile, outwardly still, was on fire with impatience. 
Time pressed. He must be at Woodbridge station to catch the 
northward mail that passed shortly after midnight, or lose the 
chance of present escape — and Woodbridge was thirteen miles away. 
His mare would do the distance in the time if he could start at once. 
Oh ! would she only sleep ! 

No thought of yielding, no compunction or tenderness, entered 
his mind. Avarice hardened the miser into flint. If she would only 
sleep ! 

He had his wish. Fatigued with the exertions of the day, tired 
of talking to a companion who either gave curt answers or failed to 
reply at all, Annis presently dropped off into quiet, dreamless sleep. 

Warned by her heavy breathing that the moment he had so 
ardently desired had come, Edward stealthily arose. To make 
sure of safety, he whispered to his wife, then spoke to her, then 
called her by name. No answer. Clearly she slept. 

He dressed himself vsilehtly, with eager haste, his hands tremulous 
with excitement, but his purpose unwavering, fixed. Carr3dng his 
heavy shoes, he groped his way softly on tiptoe towards the door, 
opened it gently, and slipped out. 

Now it happened, though Edward Blythe was quite unaware of 
the fact, that a heedless servant girl, too lazy to return tp the kit. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


51 


clien that night, had left a pail upon the landing-place on her way to 
bed. Upon such trivial causes often hang the happiness or misery 
of a life. Blythe, cautiously stepping forward in total darkness, as 
a matter of course, came in contact with the pail, which immedi- 
ately bumped with a direful clash and clatter down two flights of 
uncarpeted stairs and poured forth what remained of its contents 
in the passage. 

Making sure that this catastrophe must have awakened Annis, 
Edward re-opened the door of his room, and peered into the dark- 
ness. All was quiet. He whispered his wife’s name. No reply. 

“ Thank Heaven ! ” he muttered. “She is too tired to wake.’' 

Had it been light, he would have seen the terror-stricken, pallid 
face of his wife, startled from repose, leaning upon her elbow, and 
gazing into his eyes. 

“ My God !” she whispered, faintly. “He is going to do himself 
a mischief! ” 

Certain of his security, the schemer glided hastily down the 
slippery stairs, entered the sitting room, struck a light, unlocked 
the secretary, drew forth his pocket book, and ran his fingers 
through the notes to make sure all were safe. The touch of the 
money he so dearly loved was too delightful to be relinquished in a 
moment. 

While he was occupied thus, the white-robed figure of his wife 
appeared at the door, gazing with terrified eyes upon his gloating 
face. His purpose flashed upon her in a moment. 

“All safe! ” muttered Edward Blythe, thrusting the note-case into 
his breast pocket and buttoning his coat tightly over the spot. 
“Now, Ralph Lee, come when you like and find the nest empty. 
The bird will have flown. Then do your worst, for I defy you! 
Stop! this may be useful! 

He took a pistol from a drawer of the secretary and was placing 
it in his breast, when Annis, mistaking the gesture, rushed upon 
him with a shriek. He dropped the light which he had taken up, 
and in his trantic terror thought himself beset by thieves. 

Casting off his wife’s grasp, he ran a pace or two backwards, 
drew forth the pistol, and fired at a venture. The flash showed 
him the f?£e of Annis, and her falling figure. He cried aloud for 
help. 

The first of the startled household to reach the snot was William 


62 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


Blythe. Bursting in with a light, he saw his mother lying with 
closed eyes in his father^s arms. The farmer hung over his handi- 
work in an agony of remorse. 

‘‘Father! mother! cried the affrighted lad. “For God^s sake, 
what has happened ? 

The sound of his voice called Annis back to life. She unclosed 
her eyes, rested them a moment on the repentent figure at her side, 
then stammered feebly : 

“It was my fault. I found — your father — walking — walking in 
his sleep — and woke him suddenly. He didn’t know me — and— this 
happened. But it was my fault — all my fault ! ” 

She fixed her loving eyes upon the frightened features of the hus- 
band of her youth, pressed his hand in token of forgvieness, then 
sank back with a sigh. 

Before the startled witnesses of the scene well knew what had 
happened, the sound of rapid hoofs drew Will Blythe to the door. 
By the pale light of the waning moon, he saw his father’s well- 
known figure urging his mare at a frantic gallop down the road. 
Stricken with remorse for his terrible crime, literally — for a season — 
mad with fear for its consequences, Edward saw no safety but in 
speedy flight. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

BILLY. 

It has always seemed to me that the venerable anecdote of the 
three black crows was invented by some world- wearied cynic as a 
biting satire upon the general love for exaggeration. In truth, 
when one comes to examine facts, nothing seems more singular than 
the rarity of getting a fair and impartial report of even well-known 
events. Half-a-dozen witnesses in a court of justice will describe 
the same occurrence with more than half-a-dozen differences. Grave 
and sedate historians — men above all suspicion of intentional dis- 
t'^rtion— ins^^t^sibly color events according to thei<* own particular 


Albany starics revenge. 


5^ 


bias. One of the most difficult tasks in the world is to disentangle 
poor Truth from the complicated web of fiction flung by inexact- 
itude, carelessness, and want of observation around her struggling 
limbs. 

Conflicting reports circulated in Paston village next morning as 
to what had happened during the night at the Grange, and you may 
be sure none of them in any degree tended to diminish the horror of 
the actual facts. 

All that was positively known was that Dr. Polt, who attended 
all the better class of the neighborhood, had been called out of his 
bed at midnight by half-frantic William Blythe, and was still at the 
Grange. 

A little knot of idlers had collected before the door of the 
“Wellington’s Head,” and was discussing the exciting event. 
Prominent among the throng was Martin Lake, the landlord of the 
inn, a big man and a burly, who stood before the door with his 
hands in his pockets underneath his short white apron, and 
listened with a kind of amused superiority to the vague conjectu.»*es 
started by his neighbours. 

“They do say as how Farmer Blythe be gone right down stark 
staring mad,” observed little Cutts,the Paston barber, in a horrified 
whisper. “I heard he tried to throttle Dr. Polt and swore he’d 
knc) k his brains out with the poker. ’ Twas as much as four of 
the farm labourers could do to hold him.” 

“Lor! ” came in the chorus of excited listeners. 

“They’ve got him shut up in the stable now,” continued the bar- 
ber, looking round, proudly, “tied to the rack, and his arms 
fastened behind his back with a hay-band, and three of the men are 
keeping guard outside the door with flails and pitchforks for fear he 
should break loose.” 

“You don’t say so! ” cried the chorus. 

“Yes, but I do!” returned the talkative barber. “And that’s 
why Old Josh has gone up to help, acause he’s been a sodjer and 
seen lots of mad people in the Ingees, and them furrin ’ parts, where 
they gets struck all on a heap with the sun shining on their bare 
heads, and don’t get better till they jumps into the sea and drowns 
their selves.” 

“Does they though ? ” 

“They does, an’ that’s the solemn truth,” asseverated Cutts. 


54 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVBNOB. 


** Ah, friends, them Ingees is a hawful country to live in. Here to- 
day an’ gone to-morrow. You’re walking about all comfortable 
and jolly-like at dinner time, and dead an’ buried in your grave 
p ’ raps afore sunset.” 

‘‘No ?” said the landlord, incredulously. “Have a glass of ale, 
Cutts. What, as quick as that, eh ? ” 

“ Quite as quick. Muster Lake. Well, thankye, don’t mind if I do. 
Ah, quite as quick, and quicker too, sometimes; specially when 

folks is rather too free living and fa that’s to say, an ’ don’t take 

enough care o’ themselves.” 

“ Don’t eat enough, I s’pose you mean, eh ? ” demanded the land- 
lord, rather testily. “ It can’t be the strong, hearty folks as lives 
well and has plenty of everything, that gets took so sudden.” 

Unwilling to offend the dispenser of glasses of ale, the barber 
hesitated. 

“Well — er— you see. Muster Lake, er — in them hot countries ’taint 
like as ’t is in old England, where the better you live an’ the more 
you eat and drink — in moderation — the better you be. In the 
Ingees it’s just the stout, portly folks as goes soonest ; leastways, 
so I’ve heerd, but I dare say it ain’t true. People ain’t half so par- 
ticular about sticking to truth as they ought to be.” 

“Well, never mind the Ingees, Cutts; tell us about Farmer 
Blythe,” broke in an impatient listener. “ Old Josh is gone up to 
the Grange to help, you said. To help do what ?” 

“Why, to help look after Farmer Blythe, to be sure, stupid,” re- 
turned the barber, between whom and Josh a species of rivalry existed 
for the proud position of Village Oracle. “What else good could he 
be? Haven’t they got Dr. Bolt? 

“But I did hearashow ’t were Missus Blythe was ill, ’’interrupted 
a gaunt, sickly-looking man, with a spade upon his shoulder. “ I’d 
be main sorry if ’t were so, for she’s a kind-hearted soul as ever 
breathed.” 

“You may say that, Roger Brice, after her nursing o’ your missus 
and child through the fever,” answered Cutts. “I’d be sorry too 
if ’t were the case. But you see, man, there ain’t a word o’ truth 
about it. A bit knocked up she is, o’ course, with what’s happened 
to the farmer, but nought else, take my word for it. I can’t think 
how folks will always talk about things they know nothing of.” 

“Well, I’m not surprised, for one,” declared the landlord, with a 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


55 


sagacious nod. T was clear to anyone there’s been something 
wrong about farmer these weeks past. Folk don’t go maundering 
lazy about the fields when they’d ought to be at work, if they .was 
right in their heads.” 

‘‘So say I Muster Lake,” chimed in Cutts. “Another bad sign 
was, farmer took to shave hisself. Don’t think I’ve had his nose 
atwixt my finger and thumb these three months.” 

“Wonder they let him have a razor at all, he being right down 
mad. ’T is a marcy they didn’t get up some morning and find all 
their heads cut off,” remarked the landlord, wickedly. 

“’T is so,” returned Cutts, not noticing the satire. ’T would 
almost ha’ sarved ’em right for taking the bread out of a honest 
tradesman’s mouth, it would. It’s hard enough to make both ends 
meet by chin-scraping anyhow, but when the trade goes, the bread 
mostly follows.” 

“ Who’s got bread ? Give poor Billy a bit o’ bread !” broke in a 
shrill voice at this moment, the owner springing with a hop, skip 
and jump into the centre of the group. 

Whether he was an old boy or a young man was hard to de- 
termine. He might have been any age from eighteen to eight-and- 
twenty. No beard clothed his cheeks, tanned and swarthy with 
constant exposure to sun and wind. His features were well formed 
and might have been handsome, had they not been hidden under a 
dense crust of dirt. 

Dirt indeed was Billy’s distinguishing characteristic — his badge, 
his emblem, his crest and his coat of arms. It was not mere ordin- 
ary nastiness of a transient nature, the smudge of an hour or the 
smear of a day, the skin-cover rather curiously termed “clean dirt.” 
Billy’s distinction laid claim to far greater permanance, and went 
farther back into the recesses of the past. It was grime of an un- 
mistakeably congenial and homogeneous kind, part and parcel of 
his existence, bone of his bone, and skin of his skin. He gloried in 
it. He was proud of it. He strutted about in his unseemly covering 
as conceitedly as a North American Indian in his war paint, or a 
Maori chief with a fresh pattern — the latest novelty — in his tatoo. 
A species of landowner, he carried all his estate upon his person. 
Billy would have thought himself grievously ill-treated if he had 
even been washed, and used every precaution to prevent that mis- 
fortune coming to pass. 


56 ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE, 

The dress of this personage was as singular as his appearance. 
To use the mildest phrase, it was remarkably primitive— just one 
degree removed from that said to constitute a New Zealander’s full 
dress — item, a shirt-collar and a toothpick. A large sack, with holes 
Cut for the legs and arms; an arrangement of hay-bands, and bits 
of old rope that went winding upwards from his ankles, after the 
fasion peculiar to the Calabrian brigand upon the stage; finally, a 
pair of battered substitutes for shoes, once possibly leather, consti- 
tuted Billy’s entire wardrobe. 

Opinions differed in Paston whether Billy was knave or fool. 
There was a knowing leer in the cock of his eye and an aptness 
about his repartee, which strongly induced the former belief; but 
the majorit 3 ^ nevertheless inclining to the latter view carried the 
day. In spite of their sympathy for the misfortunes of his brain- 
pan, however, the Paston folk felt no scruple in amusing themselves 
at Billy’s expense, generally stipulating for some species of enter- 
tainment before extending relief. Billy, upon his part, offered no 
objection. Vastly preferring a lazy, gaberlunzie kind of life to 
industry, he accepted the ‘‘chaff” as a condition of his calling. 
You will find, I think, as we proceed, that he generall^^ contrived to 
turn the tables upon his patrons. 

The group gave back a little as Billy entered the circle, for al- 
though the villagers were not over-refined, contact with the new 
arrival was not inviting. 

“Who talks o’ bread ?” repeated Billy, extending the exceedingly 
grimy article which represented his hand. “Give I a bit of bread. 
Hain’t had never a morsel atween my lips this here blessed week, 
and to-morrow’s Friday’', keep your nose tidy. Do please, kind 
good Jeddleums, have marcy on the widder an’ the orphink! 

And Billy paraded around the widening circle, holding out his 
claw, and watching to see a compassionate hand dive into the re- 
cesses of a breeches pocket. 

“Which are you this time, Billy, eh?” asked Martin Lake, with a 
laugh. “Widow or orphan ? ” 

Billy instantly made up for the widow, and poured forth his 
lament. 

“Shure an’ av ye plaze yer honors, ain’t I the widdy o’ Mike 
Connor, o’ Clonakilty, county Cork, Oireland — 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


57 


The jim of the ocean, the pride of the say, 

Ah, black was the day that we e’er wint away. 

An’ didn’t we kape a shebeen upon the public road, an’ Mike dug 
praties an’ did odd jobs about the neighborhood for the squireens 
and shmall farmers, an’ kicked the cushtomers out o’ the shebeen 
when they got too much whisky — the omadhauns !— an’ wanted to 
be rewd, bad luck to um ! — the divils ! 

“ An’ didn’t we kape apig— thedarlint ! — an’ wasn’t it only nat’ral 
as we should n’t let the crathur stop out all lonely an’ passin’ his 
evenin’s shut up by himself in the CO wld in a bit of a stye, an’ so 
tuk him in ahint the bar an’ kep’ him by the fire to schnooze away 
an’ get fat in the warrumth. 

“An’ didn’t the baste of a Saxon landlord objict — bad cess to 
’im ! — an’ swear if we didn’t turn out the pig — the crathur! — he’d 
turn us out. An’ didn’t we swear we would n’t, an’ so he did ; an’ 
so wld the pig — our own dear darlint grumphy ! — and kep’ the money — 
the desaver! — for the rint. 

“An didn’t we come over last summer for the raping, an’ my Mike 
catched the faver and wint to glory— Heaven rest his soul ! — an’ left 
me here with nine small childher, most twins, an’ another a cornin’, 
p’raps two, an’ haven’t got bite nor sup for one on us. So, master, 
tip us a tinpinny, an the Heavens above be your bed, an’ the bless- 
ings of the widdy and the orphinx light upon your path, and get 
yer sowl out o’ purgatory in the twinkling of a bedpost! 

“That’s the widdy, guv’ner” concluded Billy, with a leer at the 
landlord. “ Cam’t do the horphinx yet, cos I’m so precious dry.” 

He drew the back of his hand, across his mouth. Martin took 
the hint. Billy obtained his ale, and struck up the wail of the street 
orphan in a different key. 

“‘Come, listen all you parients dear 
Untoe my dismal fate ; 

You cannot choose but shed a tear 
Toe what I shall relate.’ 

“That’s the kinchin, guv’nor,” said Billy, checking the melody. 
“Now comes the gal. She’s hired the kid up in Vestminster; pays a 
bob a day for ’im and his grub. This is vot she sings.” 

Here Billy made a pause. The circle listened intently, but no 
song came. ^ 


58 


ALBANY STARK'S RBVBNGE, 


“Well,’’ said Lake, impatiently. “Oo on. What does the girl 
say ? ” 

“ Guv’nor,” answered Billy, in an injured tone. “ Be fair on a cove. 
You’ve ’ad the widdy from Cork for a glass o’ ale. Prime stuff ’t 
was, too ; could do jist sitch another. Then you ’ad the horphinx 
in, free gratis, for nothink. Now yer vants the gal. ’Tain’t fair, 
guv’nor. That gal don’t never sing under bread an’ cheese.” 

The landlord’s curiosity overcame his parsimony. He entered 
the open bar, and began cutting the required delicacy, listening 
eagerly all the while. Billy leered through the window, and re-com- 
menced. 

**Gal. ‘Key-ind folks, my dismal sto-o-ry 
I now will tell to you ; 

Hof a battle, dreadful go-o-ry, 

Yhere fell my 'usbind true.* 

“ (To Kinchin) ‘Tune up, ye little divil, there’s a hold cove at the 
vinder a listenin ! ” 

** Both: ‘Yhere fell|^y| *usbind true — oo — oo.* 

“ Gal: *A fightin’ far his na-tive land. 

For he vos a sodgyer bra — a — ave, 

Hand ’e vos v on of a galliant band, 

Has a Briton ain’t a sla — a — ve.* 

“ (To Kinchin): ‘If ’e don’t drop the browns vont I vop yer when 
ve’re round the corner.’ 

**Botb : ‘Has a Briton ain’t a sla — a — ve.* 

“ Bigger bit o’ cheese, guv’nor,” whispered Billy, hoarsely, behind 
his hand to the landlord. “ Hall right. Hon ve goes agin. 

“ Gal: ‘He died, cried vith ’is latest breath, 

‘ My country, keyind and tru — oo — oo.* 

I’ve done my dooty; welcome. Death, 

My Chyild I leave to you — oo — oo.* ” 

(Holds Up the Kid.) 

“There ’t is, in a paper; run. ’Arf-a-bull, no doubt! Cuss ’im ; ony 
a brown. Yont I lick yer. Tune up.’ 

**Both: ‘My chyild I leave to you — oo — oo.’ 

“Yitch the petformunks is hended,” said Billy, “and ’ere goes into 
the grub.” 


go 


ALBA]Siy STARK^S REVENGE. 

The arrival of Old Josh at this moment called off the general 
attention from Billy’s discussion of his bread and cheese, which I 
think you will agree with me he had fairly earned. 

The Oracle was instantly surrounded by an eager crowd, clam- 
oring for news. 

“Come in, sergeant,” said Martin Lake, “and try the new brew. 
It’s just the flavor you like, I know. There’s a head!” added the 
landlord, falling back a pace or two admiringly. 

“Very fine,” responded Josh. 

“Just try it, sergeant,” added Martin, entreatingly. 

“ Thankye, Martin,” said Josh, quietly, nodding. “ Your health.” 
And emptied the glass, but spoke no more. 

This behavior struck Martin as extremely cool. He was already 
rather sore at having been forced to expend bread and cheese upon 
Billy to hear what the girl said. He had no notion of tapping his 
best ale to no purpose. 

“Sad news up yonder, ain’t there?” he began, with the air of a 
man who thought he had purchased the right to be told. 

“ Up where ? ” added Josh, with apparent unconcern. 

“Why, up at the Grange, to be sure.” 

“Oh, yes! There’s been an accident.” 

“ Ah ! so I heard. Farmer’s main bad, ain’t he ? ” 

“Not that I know of.” 

“Why, they ’ve got Dr. Polt; haven’t they?” 

“I never asked.” 

“ You— never — asked ! ” repeated Martin, amazed. 

“No ! why should I? It’s no business of mine.” 

“Well, but look here, sergeant. Come, be neighborly, and tell us 
all about it. Ain’t Farmer Blythe gone stark staring mad ? ” 

“Not to my knowledge.” 

“What?” broke in an excited listener through the bar- window. 
“D’ye mean to say he did n’t try to throttle Dr. Polt ? ” 

“And wanted to knock out his brains with a poker?” cried 
another. 

“And have n’t they got him shut up in the stables ? ” asked a third. 

“ Tied to the rack ? ” 

“ Arms fastened behind his back ? ” 

“ With a hay-band ? ” 

The sergeant gazed from one to another of his eager interroga- 


66 


ALBANY StAkK'S REV€NGB. 


tors with an expression that seemed to say he considered them all 
very much in the same condition they ascribed to Blythe. At last he 
relieved his oppressed feelings with a prolonged whistle. 

Why, who's been telling you all that pack o’ lies?” hedemanded. 

‘‘Here! Cutts! Cuttsl where’s Cutts ? He knows all about it !” 

Search was made in all directions for the delinquent, but the 
mendacious barber was nowhere to be found. 

A few quiet words from Old Josh soon dispelled the halo of rom- 
ance the tonsorial imagination had thrown around the facts. A 
pistol the farmer had been cleaning was accidently discharged, said 
Josh, and poor Mrs. Blythe unfortunately severely hurt. They 
should be careful not to allow the absurd story that had got about 
to reach the ears of William Blythe. 

No better testimony could be given to the esteem in which Annis 
was universally held than the fact that the assembly at once quietly 
and sorrowfully dispersed. 

Billy had been an attentive listener to all that passed. Feeling 
sure, from Josh’s particularly reserved manner, that the whole truth 
had not leaked out, the vagrant took the earliest opportunity of 
making his way across the fields to the Grange. Here he was no 
stranger, for in his previous excursions about the country, Annis, 
unknown to her husband, had often relieved his wants. 

Particular interest must have attached in Billy’s mind to what 
he learnt in the Grange kitehen of the actual state of affairs. His 
first proceeding after quitting the farm was to ensconce himself un- 
perceived behind the nearest hedge, where he hastily scrawled the 
following short note. 

“ Blythe shot his wife last night and bolted. Look out for him in 
town or at the ports. I’m stopping here till the captain comes on 
with Lee. Shall be up in a day or two.” 

Opening a small bag he carried slung over his shoulder, Billy drew 
out a pigeon, and first earefully securing his epistle under its wing, 
threw the bird high into the air. Shaking its head, and careering 
round in ever-widening circles for a minute or two, as if in delight at 
its recovered liberty, the faithful messenger presently mounted high 
into the air, and darted off in a straight line towards the metropolis. 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE, 


61 


I, 

j 

CHAPTER IX. 

' THE WELCOME HOME. 

Ralph Lee’s return to his native place presented a singularcon- 
trast to his runaway departure five-and-twenty years before. 

Then, it was after a hard chase across ploughed fields and a long 
run through the woods that he succeeded in reaching Lynn, and was 
smuggled aboard a London bound lugger by his friends among the 
fishermen at night. He was a fugitive, flying for liberty, if not for 
life. 

Now, he posted on from Woodbridge in the opulent state of an 
English gentleman, traveling for his pleasure. Three carriages were 
necessary to convey his family and retinue, with as much of his lug- 
gage as was indispensable for immediate comfort. The remainder 
was sent round from Southampton by sea the following week, and 
freighted a hoy. He was a rich man, you see, and in that quality 
commanded homage. 

It is astonishing how the possession of a little money affects the 
opinions of the world. Although bygone medical wisdom had de- 
clared Farmer Crowe to have died from erysipelas, caused by drink- 
ing, yet it is very certain the man might not have gone to his grave 
for many years but for the blow dealt by Ralph Lee’s avenging hand 

This was so generally felt by the Thorne villagers at the time, 
that, detested as Crowe justly was in that small community, a jury 
of their number would have borne hard upon the young sailor if he 
had not effected his escape. 

Yet when wealthy Captain Lee, married to a West Indian heiress, 
whose possessions rumor — which we know never exaggerates — esti- 
mated at millions, came back to settle on the scene of his deed, not a 
tongue was heard to wag against him. 

But Ralph Lee was not a better man now than then, or one more 
truly deserving of respect. In fact, as we may perhaps come to learn, 
I am afraid he had a great deal more upon his conscience by this 
time than the death of Farmer Crowe. 

Warned by letter of the exact time when his uncle might be ex- 
pected to arrive. Will Blythe, accompanied by the faithful Josh went 


62 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


some distance down the road to meet him. Billy, the “natural,** 
adroitly plying his part of gaberlunzie, took care to be upon the 
spot when the carriages slowly ascended the hill that led to Paston. 
Young Blythe was seen to stop the foremost, and speak to its occu- 
pants. In a few minutes Ralph Lee alighted, and struck off hastily 
with Will across the fields leading to the Grange. The carriages 
came leisurely on, under Josh’s direction, drew up before the inn, and 
waited. 

Meanwhile, in Annis Blythe’s sick chamber, the utmost quiet 
reigned. Exhausted by pain and languor the patient had sunk into 
an uneasy, troubled sleep. Dr. Polt sat by the bedside, with an im- 
portant air, counting the pulse by his watch. The Doctor was a 
little man, short of speech, bristling in appearance, very irritable 
but very kind-hearted. Nature, to make amends for his want of size, 
hadgivenhim an unu^uil amount of dignity. He was now in his 
element. 

The pulse must have been feeble, forthe Doetor gravely shook his 
head. So gravely indeed that he almost alarmed the professional 
nurse who had just been summoned from Lynn, and felt afraid her 
new “job ” was already ended. 

“ Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three,** counted Dr. Polt, softly, 
with a serious face. “Hm! stimulants. Nurse, make jelly. With 
wine. Teaspoonful moment patient wakes. Another every ten 
minutes. I shall be down stairs. Any change, call me.** 

He was gliding on tiptoe towards the door, when a faint voice 
stopped him. He was at the bed in an instant, with uplifted hand. 

“My dear madam, we must guard against excitement. Utmost 
quiet absolutely necessary. H-u-sh 1 ’* 

“I— must — see— Ralph, Doctor,’* she murmured. 

“See Ralph, madam ! ’* exclaimed the Doctor, aghast. “ Certainly 
not, madam. You can’t see anybody whatever, or I’ll not answer 
for the consequences. Who’s Ralph ? ** he whispered to the nurse. 

“My brother. Doctor,” moaned Annis. “We have n’t met for five- 
and-twenty years. I must see him, I must, I tell you, I must! ” 

“Don’ty, now, there’s a dear! ” chimed in the nurse, comingto the 
rescue. “ Don’ty ’xcite yourself. You shall see him as soon as you 
’re better, dear.** 

“No, no!** she shrieked, rising up. “I must see him directly— 
directly — now! ” 


ALBANY STARKS REVENGE. 


63 


A pitiable sight was dignified Dr. Polt, dancing from leg to leg in 
his anxiety for his patient, divided between his sense of the equal in- 
jury of humoring or thwarting her. 

“Of two evils, saj's the proverb, “choose the least. As a wise 
man, the Doctor gave in at last, and upon Ralph Lee^s arrival he 
was shown into his sister’s room. 

Their interview was brief. Neither could fail to feel the contrast 
of the present lamentable scene to the joyful meeting both had so 
often pictured. A few muttered words, a tender kiss, were all 
that they exchanged, before Ralph left the sick room. As he des- 
cended the stairs, he dashed the tears from his eyes. 

Below, Dr. Polt was encountered in a state of high excitement. 
He rushed at Ralph the moment he came in. 

“I’ll not be answerable for the consequences, sir!” he shouted. 
“Mind that, sir! Thank yourself for whatever happens. It’s quite 
against my advice, my professional opinion, my express wish and 
desire. I’ll not be answerable sir I Mind that ! ” 

Up stairs flew the Doctor, as fast as his short legs would carry 
him, to look after his patient, and remedy to the best of his abilitj^ 
whatever harm might have been done. Ralph Lee stared after him 
in mute amazement, then turned to William Blythe, who explained 
the worthy Doctor’s ire. 

“Dashed if I did n’t think the chap was mad 1 ” exclaimed the cap- 
tain. “ Now, where’s your father, lad ? I want an explanation from 
him of what’s happened to Annis.” 

It was a painful task for Will to account for his father’s absence. 
To explain it, indeed, satisfactorily, was altogether out of his power. 
The only excuse he could allege was that imagining the accident he 
had unwittingly caused far more serious than ever the miserable 
truth, Edward was keeping out of the way until he learnt the result. 

Ralph shook his head. His larger experience of men and human 
motives told him at once that more remained to be discovered than 
had yet come to light. 

“ We shall see, boy, we shall see,” he replied to Will’s stammering 
defence of the absentee, as the two retraced their steps towards the 
inn. 

“You’ve got a precious scoundrel for a father, I’m afraid; but 
that’s not your fault, boy. I shan’t come to see your mother again 


64 


ALBANY STARK'S RE\ENGE, 


till she's cither better or worse. Tell her so, and keep me acquainted 
how she goes on.” 

The young man promised. He guided his uncle hack to the inn, 
saw the travellers drive away, then followed the road to his deso ate 
home with a heavy heart. 


CHAPTER X. 


MEASURING THE GROl ND. 

When Oliver Blande presented himself, afortnight after his disas- 
ter, at Clement’s Inn with his arm in splints, he had news to receive 
from Albany Stark at which he was not a little surprised. 

A man not knowing Stark so well as Oliver knew his saturnine 
chief might perhaps, not very unnaturally, have expected something 
like sympathy for the accident that had befallen him. But the young 
man had no such hope. He rather anticipated, on the contrary, 
reproaches for having willfully delayed the execution of his princi- 
pal’s plans. Nor was he altogether wrong. 

“A petty piece of idiocy that Quixotic exploit of yours at South- 
ampton,” was Stark’s greeting. ” What uponearth induced you to 
risk a life that’s my property in saving other folks’ carcasses! That 
was n’t in your instructions, I believe.” 

You would n’t have had me let a human being perish before my 
eyes,” retorted Oliver doggedly. 

” Perish before your eyes, philanthropist! ” returned Stark, mock- 
ingly. ”The human being might have been drowned half-a-dozen 
times over, I suspect, if she hadn’t happened to be young, and pretty, 
and a woman. Besides, who cares for the life of a polecat or a Lee ? 
The sooner such vermin are extirpated from the earth, the better. Is 
that your only excuse ? ” 

Oliver was silent; but if ever eye spoke strong disgust, that senti- 
ment was to be read in the look he turned upon Stark. The lawyer 
laughed triumphantly. 

“ Luckily for me,” he went on, “ my interests were better cared for 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


65 


than by such a devoted squire of dames. Circumstances, about 
which you could know nothing, have turned in your favor. Delay 
has now become sounder policy than action. You must employ the 
interval to get thoroughly restored. — Now to business. What do 
you know of the affair at the Grange ? ” 

“Nothing save what I read in the Norfolk paper you sent me. 
That an accident had occurred, by which Mrs. Blythe had been dan- 
gerously hurt.” 

“Ah, just the common report. Then you had better hear the true 
story.” 

In the strong, nervous style peculiar to him, Stark detailed to 
his astonished subordinate the facts leading to Edward Bh'the’s 
flight, as he had gathered them from Billy’s researches and his own 
subsequent investigations. It was a remarkable proof of the 
acuteness of his judgment that, though necessarily groping a good 
deal in the dark, he had come pretty close to the truth. 

Oliver’s report of his hurt — delayed for a few days after the Lees 
had left Southampton owing to a relapse — and Billy’s message of 
Edward’s flight had reached Clement’s Inn simultaneously. A few 
hours afterward a pigeon-express arrived from Stark’s Liverpool 
agent, announcing the advent of a suspicious personage who had 
just missed the American steamer. The man was in such evident 
distress of mind and excitement that he should keep him in view un- 
til he received instructions how to act. 

“ Better served by these base instruments than by the man in 
whom I have placed confidence and trust,” continued Stark with a 
withering sneer. “ I started at once for Thorne. Coupling Blythe’s 
otherwise inexplicable flight with the escape of the defaulter Wylie 
from the same quarters some weeks back, the event proved that I 
was right. Macbride had told me no vessel would leave Liverpool 
for the States before the end of the week ; consequently I had time 
to act. 

“Ascertaining everything requisite to learn about Blythe, I hur- 
ried on to Liverpool, and caught my fugitive as he was stepping on 
board. Either the skunk is pusillanimous by nature, or one of those 
weak fools who pretend to a conscience, for he followed me without 
a word. When I had him safe on shore, I taxed him with being 
Wylie’s accomplice. Then, the truth came out.” 

Stark went on to describe, briefly and with his own cynical col- 


5 


66 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


oring, Edward^s emotion upon learning that Annis still lived, and 
continued : 

“ When my friend had turned off the main, I set myself to the task 
of persuading him to give up his plan of levanting, and to go back 
home. At first he was quite immovable ; danced a measure upon 
the moral high ropes to the tune of his conscience and his sense of 
honor not allowing him to look the man he had so deeply wronged 
in the face, and all the stock arguments of the penitent sinner — you 
know the style of rhetoric. But, when I pointed out that, after 
what had happened, it was highly unlikely Lee would favor him 
with much of his society; when I showed him how impossible it 
was for his brother-in-law, with a county reputation to make, to 
take harsh proceedings against his sister’s husband ; then, I imag- 
ine, he began to see daylight. It dawned upon his obtuseness that, 
after all, he might, by keeping safely quiet and out of Lee’s way, 
manage to retain his plunder, and avoid the amenities of Yankee- 
dom, which, when it came to the push, he seemed somehow rather 
to dread. 

“The strongest argument of all, however, I kept for the last. I 
hinted to him that, supposing things did come to the worst, I pos- 
sessed sufficient influence with Lee to make him give up his claim; 
that, if requisite, I would exert that influence in his favor; but that 
I should only do so as a last resort, and in case of all other means 
proving ineffectual. 

“You may ask, perhaps, why I should trouble myself to make 
this man give up his design. You may imagine it could matter 
little to me whether this contemptible miser abandons the wife he 
has so nearly slain, the son he has disgraced, and leaves to both of 
them an indelible legacy of shame. You may think this, I say, but 
you will be wrong. Did you ever know me to do any thing without 
a motive ? Even in trivial matters it is my practice to act by carefully 
pre-arranged plan. How much the more should I adhere to my 
tried system in an affair like this, into which — as I have told you — I 
enter heart and soul. Rest satisfied with learning it is essential to 
my scheme that Blythe and all his family, were they tenfold as 
numerous, should remain upon the spot until the thunder-cloud 
bursts. If not a Lee himself, he is allied to the Lees. I will keep all 
my enemies under my hand, that when the time comes I can crush 
all at a blow. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


67 


“I have told you this, to show you the lay of the ground upon 
which we shall have to act. Moved by my arguments and relying 
upon my promise of support, Blythe has returned home. Lee, I 
have reason to believe, will settle in the neighborhood of Lynn, and 
set up as a country gentleman. Time must be given to allow mat- 
ters to calm down, and the pause will enable you to recruit. By 
that date all my plans will be matured.” 

Two months after the conversation above detailed, Oliver Blande 
started for Lynn, furnished with full instructions from Stark, to open 
the campaign against the common enemy. 


CHAPTER XL 

A MEETING. 

Four miles away from Paston, on the road to Lynn, and close 
to the sea-shore, stood a quaint and singular-looking rcvsidence called 
The Towers. 

After Ralph Lee left Paston on the day of his return, he had pro- 
ceeded with his family to Lynn. Here he awaited further news of 
his sister’s health, promised by William Blythe. Weeks passed and 
the reports were still the same. The invalid continued to live, 
though by what miracle she survived puzzled medical science to 
divine. 

Slowly and gradually the character of the news changed. At 
first it sounded more cheering. The crisis was past, and the inval- 
id’s health improving. Although the ball was unextracted the 
wound began to heal. But soon a tone of greater gloom prevailed, 
deepening and deepening until it grew into a knell of positive des- 
pair. Will at last reported Dr. Bolt’s assurance that his mother’s 
life would be saved — but that was all. T^ie spine had been injured, 
and paralysis of the lower limbs had ensued. Annis might still be 
spared to her family many years, but she would never again be able 
to set foot upon the ground, always be dependent for help upon 
others, always bedridden, always a cripple. 


68 


ALBANY ST ABIC S REVENGE, 


“IVl almost have forgiven the swab if the poor wench had been 
killed outright!” cried Ralph, passionately, as he read the news. 
“It might have been an accident, though to my thinking the yarn 
of sleep-walking’s all moonshine. But to lay her on the sick-list for 
life, and make her death-bed last for years! No! That’s a stretch 
beyond forbearance, still, for her sake, I’ll leave the lubber unharmed. 
Only let him keep out of my sight — that’s all. 

And as he dashed his nephew’s letter on the ground, and crushed 
it savagely beneath his heel, a gleam shot into his eyes that called to 
mind the ferocity of a furious animal rather than the righteous 
anger of a man. 

When Annis’s fate was decided, her brother began to consider 
what should be his future plans. Such dreams of passing the re- 
mainder of his days at the Grange, as he might have indulged were 
put to flight by what had happened, but he still held to his project 
of settling in the neighborhood. He purchased a couple of houses 
not far from Lynn and looking upon the sea, threw them into one, 
and called his residence The Towers. The county folks, less compli- 
mentary, gave it the nickname of Lee’s Folly. 

The new proprietor furnished The Towers in a style of lavish 
grandeur. Strange tales were circulated throughout that primitive 
district of the wonderful treasures brought down from town to 
meet the newly-settled family’s magnificent ideas. The interior fit- 
tings of the house were executed by workman from a distance — si- 
lent, uncommunicative men, upon whose reserve curiosity was 
wrecked, unsatisfied, as on a rock. The mystery observed worked 
up the desire of the neighbors for its penetration to a painful pitch, 
destined to be left unsatisfied. 

In country fashion, after the settlement of the Lees in their abode, 
surrounding families called, partly to gratify inquisitiveness, partly 
to induce acquaintance. They were courteously received, but went 
away with little desire to repeat the visit. 

They found Mrs. Lee to be a dark, olive-complexioned lady, with 
a timid, frightened look in her large black e3'es as if she lived 
in constant dread. As well she might. The very few who had 
known young Lee in boyhood observed that the hasty temper by 
which he had always been distinguished had grown upon him as a 
man. His irritability was awful. The slightest opposition roused 
him to parox^^sms of fury, in which he seemed unconscious of his 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


69 


acts. After a fit of rage he was always low and despondent, slept 
much, ate little, and passed the greater portion of the day, some- 
times half the night, by the sea-shore, watching the beating of the 
waves upon the beach, lying so close to the margin that the spray 
dashed its rheum upon his face and hair. The wind and the sea air 
were his medicines. Revived by these restoratives, he was a gentler 
man for days. 

Among the lower classes of the neighborhood. Josh Rich, the 
Village Oracle, was the only one who had been admitted to view the 
glories of The Towers. Aloody Ralph Lee seemed to take pleasure 
in the soldier’s tales of which the veteran was full. Rich, being also 
upon a footing of even greater intimacy at the Grange, formed a link 
between the families neither cared to break. 

It will be easily believed that into a household so peculiar, people 
felt small desire to intrude. Ralph Lee returned no visits, accepted 
no invitations, mixed with no “society.” Besides the “Oracle,” the 
only person who could at all be said to be on a footing of intimacy 
at The Towers was William Blythe. 

For, curiously enough the hatred Lee made no secret that he felt 
for Edward Blythe was not extended to his son. It was not that he 
merely tolerated the young man : he evidently liked him. William, 
for his part, persuaded himself that he kept up intimac3^ with his 
saturnine uncle for his mother’s sake. Some certain influence this 
reason may had have, but it is not impossible he was induced to visit 
The Towers b^^ another motive, not less powerful, as well. 

Guenever, the daughter of the proprietor of the place, was at 
the time of their arrival in England, just turned twenty. A tall and 
shapely figure, with masses of nut-brown hair; handsome, regular 
features, dark-blue eyes, now melting with kindness, now kindling 
with fire. It seemed strange that a girl so dissimilar in appearance 
to both her parents should be the offspring of the Lees. But na- 
ture keeps a storehouse of mysteries, whose secrets man can rarely 
penetrate. In temperament, Guenever was ardent and eager, yet 
strictly fair and just ; apt to be carried away by first impressions, a 
warm friend and a vehement opponent. A gallant or daring action 
captivated her at once, and blinded her to many serious faults. A 
dangerous failing, this ; the only weakness in a character otherwise 
gloriously strong. 

Between Guenever and her cousin Will considerable friendship 


70 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


soon sprung up. Never did a week elapse without the young farmer 
finding his way, on some pretext or another, to The Towers. In 
many cases, such intimacy might have ripened into love, but with 
these two, somehow or another, it did not. It is a great question 
whether either ever thought of the other as a possible partner for 
life. No particular reason that I am aware of for this insensibility to 
each other’s charms existed, save perhaps their similarity of charac- 
ter, and it is strong contrasts, usually, that evoke a warmer feeling 
than mere liking. As brother and sister, Will and Guenever regarded 
one another from the first ; as brother and sister Providence willed 
they should live on together until their lives’ end. Both unusually 
frank, pure-hearted, and sincere, neither ever dreamt of deluding 
the other into the semblance of affection by the hypocrisy of flir- 
tation. 

After the transient excitement of getting his new house in order 
had passed away, and he began to settle down into a regular daily 
round, Ralph Lee discovered that the life he had selected for himself 
was extremely dull. It is always a wrench to abandon the habits 
of years and enter upon a new career. A struggle when the change 
is from one kind of activity to another, the alteration is tenfold 
harder to bear by the man who turns from activity to sloth. 

To an energetic mind idleness, while the capacity for work en- 
dures, is worse than death. 

Ralph felt now that he had done wrong to give up the sea. He 
had thrown away one occupation, and had not yet found himself 
another. The interval was very tedious. Something also seemed 
to weigh upon his mind. For hours he would pace the floor, his 
hands clasped upon his back, his teeth clenched, his lips working — 
thinking, thinking over the past. What might that past contain ? 

It has been said that he mixed with none, and that those of his 
own standing in society rather avoided than sought him. He was 
not an intellectual man. The books that crowded the shelves of 
his library were never opened, the pictures and fine engravings 
that decorated the walls of his house never attracted his eye. He 
took no pleasure in dogs or in horses, or in bird-slaughter, or in any 
other of the usual amusements common to his class. His chief— 
perhaps his sole — enjoyment was a small yacht in which he passed 
hours cruising along the coast. 

Still even yachting palls in time. He sought out some of his old 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


?1 


companions of a quarter of a century back among the fishermen. 
Flattered by the notice of one so much above them, the men were 
willing enough to be entertained at his expense. Though no drunk- 
ard, Ralph had contracted certain tippling habits in his long sea 
life, which made him eagerly seek companions in his cups. It soon 
grew into a custom to pass his evenings at a tavern with a half- 
score of the rough and hardy sailors of the place, singing old sea 
songs and telling over the ancient smuggling exploits. 

It is an autumn evening. A driving rain rattles like sharp vol- 
leys of musketry against the tavern panes ; the wind howls boister- 
ously up the street, stinging the ears, and carrying off in willful glee 
the hats of passers-by. The distant boom of the sea is faintly heard 
at regular intervals, adding, by the suggestion of “dirty” weather 
it conveys, to the comfort of the merry-makers sheltered from its 
rage. 

Ralph Lee and a party of his intimates are collected round the 
fire. The weather beaten faces glow, partly with the reflection of 
the welcome blaze; partly from the liquid fuel that has been pouring 
steadily down their seasoned throats. 

“Come, lads, another song!” shouted Ralphs “With a jolly 
chorus, too. Who’ll volunteer? No one. Well, nevermind; I’ll 
give you another myself. Fill up; plenty more shot in the locker.” 

And he struck up in a rough but not unpleasing voice a tune 
well-known at that day, while the topers chimed in the chorus : — 

‘“Then three times round went our gallant ship, 

And three times round went she; 

And the bo’on he swore he’d ha’ grog galore 
If he got it at the bottom of the sea, sea, sea — 

If he got it at the bottom of the sea ! ’ ” 

“‘If he got it at the bottom of the sea !’” repeated a strange 
voice behind the circle, as the gruff roar of the chorus died away. 

•c “ ‘ Very good song and very well sung, 

Jolly companions every one ! ’ ” 

continued the stranger. “ Draw a little aside, my lads, there’s good 
fellows and let a poor half-drowned traveler catch a glimpse of the 
fire. 

All faced round at the words, and the circle instinctively opened 
when the fishermen saw the speaker. 

He was a tall, well-looking young fellow about five and twenty, 


72 


ALBANY unvEmn. 


with a pleasant, open face. Dressed in a suit of plaid “dittoes,’’ with 
a tourist’s knapsack on his back, dark in complexion and with large 
black whiskers and moustache, there was a good deal of resemblance 
in look, in air, and in gesture between the new-comer and Ralph Lee, 

“A nasty night, sir,” said the stranger, coming up to the fire and 
addressing Ralph. “The storm caught me on the moor, a couple 
of miles outside the town, and drenched me to the skin in a second.” 

Ralph Lee meantime stared at him with growing surprise, then 
presently broke out in a sounding oath, and rushing towards the 
stranger grasped him cordially by the hand. 

“I’m not mistaken! ” he cried, crushing the young man’s fingers 
in his sturdy gripe. “I thought I had seen your face before, and 
now I recollect where. Why, you’re the youngster who saved my 
girl.” 

'“I am indebted, sir, to the accuracy of your memory,” returned 
Oliver a little stiffly, for the rough cordiality of the reception rather 
offended his refined order of nerve. “I believe I had that honor. 
The young lady has now, I trust, completely recovered her health.” 

“T would be odd if she hadn’t by this time,” was the bluff reply. 

“But what brings you into this part of the country. Captain 
Blande? We thought you’d quite forgotten us. At any rate now 
you are here, we shan’t let you off in a hurry.” 

“You’re very good,” returned Oliver, smiling. “I may as well 
confess I was about to tax your hospitality, though it is as great 
a surprise as a pleasure to meet you here.” 

He glanced slightly round the parlor as he spoke. Though not 
particularly thin-skinned, Ralph felt the tacit reproof, and his bronzed 
face grew just a shade darker than before. 

“Must have some little amusement now and then,” he grumbled, 
half apologetically. “ ‘All work and no play,’ you know the rest of 
it, I dare say. Home gets dull sometimes, and I come here to have' 
an evening with my old mates for a change. — Don’t go, my lads, 
don’t go. The gentleman won’t be in your way. I’ll be bound.” 

“Pray do not let me be the means of breaking up your pleasant 
party,” added Oliver, urbanely. “I shall be happy to give you a 
song myself, presently, if you like, when I’ve dried my clothes.” 

But his courtesy was of no avail. Either the fishermen — more 
discerning in such points than the superior essences of society might 

erhaps suppose — thought they detected latent sarcasm in the offer. 


ALBANY STARK^B LLVENGB. 


73 


or saw that, in spite of his easy manners and frank appeal, he was 
of a diiferent order of being to themselves. Enough; one after 
another, the men drank up their grog, muttered they must go to 
secure their boats, slunk out of the room, and disappeard. 

“You’ve frightened them away, my young friend,” said Ralph 
with a grim laugh. “However, that’s little matter. So you were 
coming over to us, eh ? ” 

“I did propose to myself that pleasure, certainly,” was the cour- 
teous reply. “But I should not have made my appearance for a 
day or two. To say truth, a little business, or want of information 
rather, was what specially brought me down to Norfolk.” 

“ Ah, indeed ! What is it 3"ou wish to know ? ” 

“An uncle of mine, by whom I’ve been brought up, and from 
whom lhave ‘expectations’ — as the phrase goes — thinks of bujung 
an estate somewhere hereabout. He’s extremely fond of shooting, 
and wants a quiet place, not too far from town, where he can run 
down for a day’s sport whenever he feels inclined. He’s rich enough 
to have whatever he takes a fancy to, but like a good many other 
rich men don’t want to pa\^ too dearly for his whistle. He was 
down here some years ago, and took a liking to the place. Knowing 
I’m a tolerable judge of these kind of things, he has deputed me 
to look out. Do you happen to know anything that would suit 
us? ” 

Ralph shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s not much in my line,” 
he said. “ If ’t was a ship you wanted, I could give you sound ad- 
vice. But land — that’s altogether out of my latitude. Tell you 
what I can do though. How long do you mean to stay in these 
parts? ” 

“That depends entirely upon circumstances,” answered Oliver. 
’Till I’ve found what I want, I suppose, if it’s to be had.” 

“Well, I dare say I can put you in the right way. My nephew, 
young William Blythe, knows every inch of land in the county. I’ll 
introduce you to him, and if anybody can help you to what you 
want, ’t is he.” 

“Nothing could be kinder. You will confer upon me the greatest of 
favors.” 

“ But upon one condition only, mind,” continued Ralph, with a 
hoarse laugh. 

“Yes, and that is?” 


74 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


“That you come straight along home with me, and let me intro- 
duce 3^011 to my wife and daughter. Hardly a day’s passed since we 
settled down, the girl hasn’t been bothering to know whether I’ve 
heard anything of her preserver, as she calls you. Now we’ll take 
’em by surprise.” 

“I should be most happy, but really just at present, 3^ou see, I’m 
hardly in proper trim for ladies’ society. In a da3" or two, when my 
trunks have come — ” 

“Moonshine!” retorted Ralph, gruffly, mastering his young com- 
panion’s arm and marching him off upon the spot. “ We’re plain 
folks. Captain; tine clothes and tine speeches are throwaaway upon 
us. You come along with me. We’ll make you as comfortable as 
we can; the women shall do all the compliments and gratitude; and 
you’ll stop at The Towers till we turn you out. Eh, it is a bar- 
gain? ” 

“Well, if you insist,” returned Oliver, yielding with secret exulta- 
tion, “I suppose I must n’t say no. You’ll allow me, I hope, to 
explain to the ladies that it was not by any means my intention to 
burst in upon them so suddenly.” 

“My lad,” responded Ralph, gravely, “you shall explain what- 
ever you please, provided you’ll come and keep us company for a 
month or two. Wait till we turn ye out, I say, that’s all ; only wait 
till we turn ye out.” 

“Well then, agreed! ” cried Oliver, gaily, and the two men set out 
for The Towers. 


CHAPTER XII. 

CORRESPONDENCE. 

Captain Olhrer Blande to Albany Stark, Esq. 

The Towers, Lynn: June 19, 1837. 

“My Dear Stark,— 

“You have wondered, I dare say, not to have heard anj^thing 
from me since I left town upon the mission you know of. You have 
apprehended, I make little doubt, that the mission has entirely 


ALBANY STARK'S' REVBNGB, 


75 


failed. Reassure yourself. The reason of my silence has been 
owing, upon the contrary, to perfect success. For the last fortnight 
I have been domesticated here. 

“You would laugh, if you could see the footing upon which I 
stand with the family. No man could be more completely the friend 
of the house than I. We seem to have known each other fourteen 
years instead of as many days. I reserve minute description of the 
members of the household until we meet, stating only, now, that it 
consists of the ex-captain, who, there can be no shadow of doubt, 
really is the man of whom we are in search ; his wife, a visionary 
ascetic ; his daughter, a charming blondCy whose fascinations render 
my stay the more agreeable; a negro, Jake, who may probably be 
turned to some account ; three particularly cross-grained and ill- 
favored servants, selected apparently for especial uiiamiability ; 
lastly, a most troublesome and mischievous brute of a monkey, 
which I fear may some day meet with an accident. Should that 
lamentable event occur, I only hope nobody will blame me. 

“As I said, no shadow of doubt can exist that we are upon the 
right scent. The Captain Ralph Lee whose hospitality I enjoy is 
most clearly and palpably the Ralph Lee who was the hero of the 
little adventure that took place so long ago. This, you will remem- 
ber, is the point you specially desired me to ascertain. How we are 
to bring home the charge, and whether, if we succeed in so doing, 
the speculation will prove productive, are matters to which, I con- 
fess, I do not yet clearly see my way. But I am of opinion that much 
more is to be discovered than we have supposed. 

“My worthy host, — who would be a decent fellow enough if he 
didn’t bore one with his eternal sea-yarns — has evidently more upon 
his mind than the peccadillo we are endeavoring to prove. A man 
:loesn’t rush out of his house at midnight and hurry down to tho 
sea-shore in a storm of wind and rain, bareheaded, and pace lie 
beach for hours, quarter-deck -fashion, with all the external signs oi 
a confirmed lunatic, if his conscience is at peace. This little perfor- 
mance took place three nights ago, to my intense surprise. Upon 
the point of seeking my virtuous couch after an ineffectual effort at 
mild flirtation with the parlor-maid — the least hideous Gorgon of 
the three — I was disturbed by the clatter of mine host’s irruption 
from his premises. He bolted out of hi§ library. Stark, asifSathanas 
in person were at his heels, looked neither right nor left, made 


ALBANY STARK'S REVBNGB. 


Y6 

straight for the hall door, and vanished. Desire to ascertain his 
business led me to follow. Not being mad myself, I donned my 
waterproof. Then, I saw what I have 'descril)ed. In an hour my 
friend returned — drenched, soaked through, dripping, but apparently 
happy. 

“Another fact strengthens my belief that, like many other men of 
curious antecedents, this particular captain has a skeleton he keeps 
carefully concealed. In his library there is a large seaman’s chest, 
iron-hasped brass-bound; strong, massive, heavy — and carefully 
locked. So peculiar an ornament as a seaman’s chest for a library 
naturallj" arroused my curiosity. Carelessy, and with my native 
grace, referring to the article, I tried to pump my entertainer as to 
the reason of the chest being where it stands. The subject was 
dangerous. He turned as black as a tornado, shot a glance at me 
from under his bushy brows as if he would have struck me dead upon 
the spot for my impertinance, answered curtly that it contained 
valuable family papers, and changed the conversation. 

“You may fancy that this method was rather calculated to in- 
crease than check my curios — no, my thirst after knowledge. 
Watching the opportunity of his absence — by the way, not easy to 
obtain, for he guards his secrets like Bluebeard — I have tried the 
lock. Stark, I respect, I admire its constructor. He must have 
been a true artist. Not one of the pass-keys you gave me was of 
the slightest use. In this dilemma, I have sought refuge in the last 
resource, have taken the impression as well as I could in wax, and 
sent it to you per parcel, carefully packed in wool. Do with it the 
best you can, and let me have the result. 

“Meantime, I imagine the best course will be to continue cautious- 
ly to seek in the neighborhood for evidenee of Lee’s former escapade. 
A queer, chattering old felllow comes here at times, upon whom I 
suspect the pump extractive may be successfully worked. He has 
been in the army, a non-com. — sergeant-major, I believe, or some 
such post — and is on terms of considerable intimacy with Lee. The 
form.er business must have happened, I should think, about his 
time. At any rate, he must have some knowledge of it, if only from 
hearsa3^ Provided I can get his weather-gauge, which I do not 
greatl^^ doubt, some facts of value may come to light. His weak 
point is enthusiasm for the ‘ sarvice ’ in the slang of which, as you 


ALBANY STARKS REVENGE. 


77 


know, I’m tolerably versed. I hardly apprehend, therefore, that 
he’ll prove too old a soldier for me. 

“There’s only one thing more needing present mention, but that 
one happens to be essential to the success of my scheme. What the 
state of the money-market in town may be, my friend, you must 
know better than I. Of its condition down here, I am naturally 
more able to judge. It is tight, serre; I may even say, confound- 
edly tight. There can be no necessit}^ to explain to a man of your 
perspicacity how important ample command of funds at any 
moment may prove. Though Tm at free quarters here, yet the sup- 
ply with which you furnished me at starting is gone. Where, is more 
than I can tell you. Money, like Time, I’ve alwa3^s found to possess 
an inexplicable propensity to disappear. Were I the only man 
wrecked from a treasure ship on a desert island, ‘monarch of all I 
surveyed ’ I do believe I should somehow manage to get rid of the 
cast-away bullion. Aware that you fully appreciate the importance 
of the subject, at present I’ll say no more. 

“ Ever your devoted, 

“Oliver Blande.’’ 


Albany Stark, Esq. to Captain Oliver Blande. 


Clement’s Inn: June 21, 1837. 

“My Dear Oi.iver,— 

“Yours of the 19th to hand. Have sent you the halves of two 
twenties (numbers follow); the others will be forwarded on advice 
of your receiving these. Knowing how money slips through your 
facile fingers, I think it as well to caution you that I shall expect a 
strict account. To judicious application, with fair prospects of re- 
turn, you know I never object ; you must be equally aware that 
needless extravagance and squandering are stupidities I never ex- 
cuse. 

Your letter contains matter which has given me much food for 
reflection. That a mystery of which we have no knowledge exists, 
seems clear. The question is whether its solution will be more profit- 
able than following up the first idea. Answer to this I expect from 
you. Pursue your investigations with the zeal and cleverness I know 


78 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


3^011 can exert when you choose. The patterns you have sent shall 
be examined, and the article, if possible, made. If it is in any one’s 
power to construct it, Matson is the man. Meantime learn all you 
can from every source, no matter how apparently unimportant, 
about Lee’s former life. Onl}^ be cautious and far-sighted; above all, 
close. 

“Let me have a regular weekly report of all you do and all you 
hear. Send often — daily even, if the necessity arise. Undertake no 
fresh step, save where delay would unavoidably entail failure, with- 
out asking instructions. 

“Once more I enjoin the strictest punctuality and obedience. 
Good service you know — no man better — I liberally reward. Do not 
forget that the means of punishing double-dealing are also in my 
hand. 

“Truly yours, 

“Albany STark.” 


Captain Oliver Blande to Albany Stark, Esq, 

“The 'Towers, 1 ynn June 23, 1837. 

“My Dear Stark,— 

“The halves announced in your agreeable and urbane note have 
duly put in their appearance. Pretty creatures as they are, there is 
a want of completeness in their aspect, until rejoined by what I may 
emphatically call their better halves, I know your admirable punc- 
tuality will speedily correct. The pecuniary dilemma will thus, for 
a time, be solved. 

“Your instructions, O my Mentor, shall be rigidly obeyed, in let- 
ter as in spirit. A beautiful simplicity invariably pervades your 
correspondence, my dear Stark, utterlj^ obviating all chance of its 
being misunderstood. Forgive me, however, if I venture to remind 
you that lavish use of threats is questionable taste. Zeal is not al- 
ways increased by the crack of the lash, 'the blow that merely 
stimulates the jackass drives the racer mad. 

“Fully aware of the exact nature of our mutual tie, believe me 
when 1 assure 3^ou that my immense esteem and affection for a per- 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


79 


sonage called Number One would of themselves preclude my slacken- 
ing in the service. Convinced, as you cannot fail to be, of my entire 
devotion, do me the trifling favor in future not to clank the hand- 
cuffs quite so loudly. Their rattle makes me shiver. 

“Ever your attached, 

“Oliver Blande.” 


CHAPTER XII. 

OLIVER BLANDE. 

Some trifling insight into the character of Captain Oliver Blande 
may perhaps have been already gained. The precise nature of his 
connection with his imperative correspondent must not yet be told. 
It is vexatious, I admit, to be kept in the dark when you would 
prefer to have everything clearly explained; but the phjlospher, 
dearly beloved, elevates necessity to the rank of a virtue, and galleth 
not his author’s kibes. Be philosophical, then, and patient. 

The inhabitants of The Towers found Captain Blande a most 
agreeable companion. Always good-tempered and ready to oblige, 
an adept in various little social arts, trifling in themselves but ad- 
mirably adapted to pass time pleasantly away , he possessed in addi- 
tion a fund of anecdote, and a profusion of small talk, which soon 
made him a great favorite with the ladies of the family. Not a subject 
could be started on which he had not something to say. His 
knowledge might not be deep, but it was always sufficient to enable 
him to keep up the conversational ball, and toss it back with a re- 
bound. 

For so young a man, the experience of life he possessed was 
astonishing. He .seemed to have been everywhere and seen every- 
thing; or, if not present himself at any particular event, to be inti- 
mately acquainted with some one who was. Though he never dis- 
tinctly stated the actual field in which he had gained military laurels 
— mentioning it, off-hand and vagely, as “in foreign service,” — he 


80 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


had apparently see much of the earth’s surface and the various 
peoples that thereon do dwell. 

Tales of extraordinary hunting adventures at the Cape, and with 
sturdy Dutch boers on the frontiers of Caffirland ; of hair-breadth 
’scapes from venomous snake and ferocious “man-eater” in the 
jungles of Hindostan; of tremendous perils while chasing bison, elk, 
buffalo, and grizzly through Canadian snows and over American 
“perara;” of exciting encounters with bush-rangers and black fel- 
lows upon arid Australian plains— pored from his lips with volubil- 
ity and ease. According to his own account, he had been ship- 
wrecked twice; left once, by mistake, for six weeks upon an 
uninhabited island in the South Pacific ; captured by Chinese pirates 
off the fitly-named Ladrones, and only rescued by the timely arrival 
of British men-of-war boats when upon the point of being crucified, 
like St. Peter, head downwards. 

From all which, one of two results must necessarily be deduced. 
Either Captain Oliver Blande had received from nature an uncom- 
monly adventurous disposition, which had led him to undergo un- 
heard-of hardships at a remarkably early age — of which, as a 
veracious historian, I am bound to say his appearance presented no 
species of trace; or, he was gifted with great powers of imagination, 
had read much, and possessed a peculiarly retentive memory. 

Towards Ralph Lee, his guest’s attractive qualities were mani- 
fested in a different way. The sailor had seen too much of the world 
and of human life himself to care greatly for listening to his young 
friend’s wonders. In his society Blande dexterously changed the 
parts, enacting the role of patient and interested listener while the 
other talked. How delightful it was to Ralph to secure a fresh ad- 
mirer of stories his wife and daughter had heard until they knew by 
heart what was coming as well as the narrator, judge, O ye button- 
holers of mankind ! 

Yet all this time, close hid under the mask of smiles and jests and 
compliments, of the gayest and easiest carelessness, adjusted so 
deftly, worn so constantly, that it only dropped from his jaded 
features at night-time, in the solitude and darkness of his bed-cham- 
ber, the dissembler was cautiouslj^ but untiringly gathering up 
evidence of a certain bad action perpetrated in the flush and hey-day 
of youthful passion by his unsuspecting host and entertainer, five- 
and-twenty years ago. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


81 


Had Ralph Lee only felt the faintest inkling of suspicion how 
dailgerous a serpent he was nourishing in his bosom, I’m afraid the 
smiling career of Captain Oliver Blande, whilome “in foreign service,” 
might have been somewhat prematurely checked. Why, not being 
arrested, it was suffered to go on and prosper to an extentthe clever 
schemer subsequently bitterl3^ cursed, ranks high in the catalogue of 
undiscoverable mysteries. 

Two other members of the household at The Towers await in- 
troduction. 

The first was a specimen of sable humanity. Jake had been born 
and bred upon Mrs. Lee’s paternal estate in Jamaica, and was now 
a fine, tall, well-grown ^'oung fellow of four-and-twenty. With the 
liberty permitted to the blacks in the free-and-easy life of the planta- 
tion, he had carried Guenever in his arms as a child, and had watched 
her growth to womanhood with a brother’s care. When, in the 
course of years, Britain wiped from the national conscience th^ re- 
proach of ages, and liberated the slave, Jake received his free-papers 
among the rest. The gift struck the soft-headed fellow like a knife- 
stab. What good was liberty to him? he asked. The onW liberty 
he wanted was liberty to serve his massa, his missis, and Missy 
Guen. If be could n’t hab dat, he did n’t want no odder. 

Fidelity and affection are too rare not to be as attractive under 
a black skin as under a white cuticle. It was agreed that Jake 
should continue with the family. Being a merry, lively young fel- 
low, full of fun and good humor, a great dancer and a famous hand 
with the fiddle, he was much liked in the servant’s hall and a prime 
favorite among the country folks in the neighborhood of The Towers. 

Waiter for introduction Number Two resembled Jake to some 
extent in point of complexion, though there the likeness ceased. The 
gentleman now sittingforhis portrait was a deep ash-color through- 
out, shading off gradually into black. His face was triangular, and 
this— »I am bound to state — was very black indeed. Across his fore- 
head swept a crescent of long white hair, surmounting another of 
black, both extending nearly to his ears. Broad tufts of white hair 
adorned the sides of his face and terminated in a thin, flat beard 
upon his chin about three inches long. Similarly to Lord Mon- 
bodno’s grand discoveries, this remarkable personage possessed a 
caudal appendage — or, to speak vulgarly, tail — of some two feet. 
In height he was not more than eighteen inches. Why, you ’ll say. 


82 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


he must have been a perfect dwarf. Excuse me, no. He was simply 
a large Diana monkeyp whose name was Bob. 

Jake, the negro, and Bob, the Diana, were inseparable friends. 
You hardly ever saw one without the other. When, after a series of 
tricks and misdemeanors. Bob was banished from the house and 
chained up in anout-building — as periodically happened— Jake visited 
his favorite many times in the course of the day with consolation in 
the shape of raisins, almonds, or nuts. At these seasons the negroes 
face lost its usual happy and careless expression; he glided about 
the house downcast and miserable ; his fiddle hung untouched behind 
the pantry door; dance or song was no more to be extracted from 
him than sugar out of verjuice. But punishment ended, and Bob re- 
stored to favor, Jake’s cheerfulness returned. He capered gaily about 
the house upon his work; his quaint songs resounded along the pass- 
ages; the twang of the fiddle enlivened the servant’s hall. Bob 
resumed his old post upon his black friend’s shoulder, whence he 
made occasional forays into the enemy’s country as before, and the 
happy life of the allies went on until the next interruption. 

Now it chanced that at the time of Captain Oliver Blande’s in- 
troduction at The Towers, Bob was undergoing one of his periods 
of temporary seclusion. His offense, upon this occasion, had been of 
peculiar atrocity. Ralph Lee, you must know, like many sailors, 
was a great bird-fancier. Among the feathered pets he brought to 
England was a pair of small Australian parroqueets. The climate, 
apparently, was not congenial to the poor little wretches, who sat 
miserably huddled close together and shivering upon the same perch 
all day long. Bob, during a predator^" incursion, accidentally pene- 
trating into the library, was attracted by the gaudy plumage of the 
birds. Opening the cage, he caught one of the parroqueets, plucked 
that unhappy fowl as bare as a chicken for the spit, replaced the 
victim on its perch, and hopped off in high glee with the spoils. As 
ill-luck would have it, Ralph Lee met the robber in the entry, laden 
with his booty. In the first burst of his indignation the Captain had 
thoughts of immolating Bob to the manes of the plucked parroqueet, 
which shivered now worse than ever, and next day gave up t1 e 
ghost; but on reflection, determined to inflict a sound thrashing ard 
put the delinquent upon half rations. Which penalty being rigidly 
carried out, was the cause that Captain Blande did not see Bob for 
upwards of a week after he had resided at The Towers. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


83 


When he did, the two conceived an instantaneous mutual deadly 
hate. Bob showed his teeth at the visitor, and nodded his head, like 
a bull preparing to charge. Blande, though with inward trepida- 
tion, ignoring these symptoms of hostility and advanced his hand 
to pull Bob’s ear, the liberty was resented by a severe bite ; where- 
upon, I regret to say, the gallant captain swore. The circumstance 
was rendered all the more unpleasant by happening in the presence 
of Guenever, upon whom Oliver was endeavouring to make an im- 
pression. 

Hostilities between the pair continued. Whenever the Captain 
could find an opportunity, he pinched Bob or trod upon his tail. 
Once he kicked him, but though it advisable not to repeat that 
method of assault, for the monkey snapt at his tormentor’s leg with 
so much viciousness that if Blande had n’t worn Wellington boots, 
an indentation, unknown to geographers, might have arisen in the 
Calf of Man. 

Enmity finally ran so high that Ralph Lee decided Bob must be 
banished to the kitchen while his guest' remained. But now Jake 
felt insulted. The disgrace of his favorite affected him. Sq that in 
place of one enemy. Captain Blande succeeded in making two. The 
ill-feeling of the brute foe was simply a transient annoyance ; that of 
the human adversary proved in due season a more serious mishap. 

The day after Captain Blande’s last letter to Albany Stark was 
distinguished by a singular adventure, which came to pass upon this 
wise. 

It was the rule at The Towers to dine at sevep o’clock, and 
the meal was invariably partaken of under circumstances of great 
ceremony and state. Whereupon I have a sermonet to preach. 

The man not born to wealth, but who achieves or inherits 
opulence, is almost invariably a great stickler for conventional 
forms a la mode then he to whom riches have been familiar from his 
youth up. The upstart looks upon these matters as solemn and im- 
portant mysteries, indispensable toduly upholding hisnew position. 

In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred he feels thoroughly uneasy 
under the arrangement. Personally, he may care nothing for show, 
and much for comfort. Cates fearfully and wonderfully made may 
invariably upset his digestion; claret may be odious to him, hock an 
abomination, still champagne the bugbear of his existence. Yet all 
these must adorn his table, if he would keep up a reputation for 


84 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


taste. He may prefer sitting down to rumpsteak and onions in a 
loose coat and slippers, and with a wisp of black silk knotted easily 
round his neck, but then, you see, he would be dubbed irremediably 
and hopelessly ever. 

He may be a kind father and a good husband, exemplary in 
every relation of life, a God-fearing citizen, a firm friend, open- 
handed, honest, virtuous, and sincere; yet if he be only once pro- 
nounced ‘Wulgaw’* by the fashionable world, his hopes of ever 
achieving the distinction he covets vanish as a tale that is told. 

So he places around his throat a strip of starched muslin, 
squeezes his bunions into sharp-toed patent leathers, endues a white 
waistcoat and a flap-tailed coat, encases his lower man in mourning 
habiliments, composes his features to corresponding gravity, and 
sits down to meat with what appetite he may. He makes himself 
uncomfortable because he dares not be suspected of want of famili- 
arity with the manners of the great. Fear of being thought vulgar 
prevents the new rieh man being natural. 

All which, I grant you, is very paltry, very small, very mean. 
Yet who of us does not do precisely the same when the opportunity 
comes in*his way ? 

Ralph Lee, at any rate, was no exception to the universal rule. 
At precisely five-and-twenty minutes past six every afternoon Jake 
took up his post at the foot of the great staircase, and, with a face 
of grave and serious earnestness, banged severely an enormous 
gong. This was the signal to dress for dinner. Half an hour was 
allowed for the ladies, and at exactly five minutes before seven Jake 
banged the big gong again. A general rush to the drawing-room fol- 
lowed. Dinner was formally announced, the ladies were led down 
stairs, and sacrifice to the fetish of conventionality was performed 
with the awful and profound solemnity proper to so grand an 
observance. 

Aware of his host^s desire that everybody should appear at 
dinner in tremendous magnificence, Blande — considerable of a cox- 
comb in his way — invariably took care to allow himself plenty of 
time for dressing. Upon the afternoon referred to, he had gone up 
earlier than usual, so early in fact that when Jake gave the first 
signal, Oliver took it for the second, and descended with grave pomp 
to the drawing-room. Finding that apartment empty, and seeing 
his mistake, the exquisite considered that a gentle promenade would 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVENGE. 


85 


not be disagreeable. It would serve a double purpose : enable him 
to air his toilette in the e^^es of the servants, the kitchen windows 
giving directly upon thegarden; and possibly also promote appetite. 
To the garden the gallant captain accordingly repaired. 

Up and down the centre walk marched Captain Oliver Blande, 
stopping now to ogle a late-blooming flower, now to flick an imagi- 
nary dust-speck from his boots, then resuming his walk with a strut 
and a swagger he had often found remarkably effective. It hap- 
pened, however, that in addition to admiring servant-maids, an- 
other spectator was attracted b 3 ^the sight. Bob, the Diana, seizing 
the opportunity of Jake’s temporary absence, caught up a duster, 
hopped along the passage, and taking up his position about a yard 
in the Captain’s rear, also began to march sedately up and down 
the walk. Captain Blande applied his perfumed poeket-handker- 
chief to his face and gently titillated his nostrils : Bob raised the 
duster in the air, and waved its folds before his muzzle. The Captain 
halted, adjusted his eyeglass, and patronizingly surveyed a full- 
blown rose: Bob tueked his duster under his arm, crooked his fore- 
finger and thumb, and quizzed a . distant tree. Every motion and 
gesture of the human exquisite were faithfully copied and reproduced 
by the simious dandy; but with an exaggerated caricature, which, 
coupled with the gravest demeanour, was irresistibly ludicrous. 

As Blande drew near the kitchen windows, he was highly grati- 
fied to observe all the servants, their four noses flattened against as 
many panes, eagerly surveying his progress down the walk. He 
felt flattered. 

By Jove ! ” was his exclamation. “ Never thought the creechaws 
had so much good taste.” 

His pleasure was modified when he came nearer still, and was 
able to preceive the laughing faces and evident glee of those he had 
believed his admirers. What could have roused their mirth ? By 
degrees the suspicion dawned upon his mind that they were posi- 
tively laughing at him! Imagine his indignation. 

“By Jove!” quoth the Captain. “That’s too bad! What the 
deuce can they see ridiculous in me? Halloa! You sir, you Jake, 
what the d — 1 are you laughing at, you lump of ebony ? ” 

The Captain’s wrathful face, glaring in at the window, recalled 
Jake to a partial sense of propriety. He tried hard to compose his 
features for reply. 


86 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


‘‘Iss, Missa Captain. Why for— lump ob ebony— laugh? Me not 
laugh, Missa Captain. Dere him go again ! Hooh! ha! Poof! Yah, 
pah, yahahaha ! ” 

And Jake spluttered out in a succession of wild unearthly shrieks 
and yells of merriment, stamping about the kitchen and holding his 
sides, while the three Gorgons tittered and grinned to an extent that 
made their faces look positively pleasant. 

The last explosion was caused by Bob advancing upon tiptoe, 
and gently extending Blande’s coat-tails, as a little girl just learning 
to dance is taught to hold out her frock. The monkey’s leer, round 
the Captain’s manl^'' calf, was inexpressibly comic. 

The Captain stood confounded. “What the deuce does the fellow 
mean?’’ he roared, wrathfully. “‘Dere him go again!’ Who’s 
going again, and where? There’s nobody here but me.” 

A slight touch upon his leg drew his attention. Looking down- 
wards, the Captain beheld the cause of the negro’s mirth; and, 
worse than all, saw too that Guenever Lee was standing at the 
garden door, struggling to hide her amusement. 

Blande made a rush at his tormentor, but the monkey was out 
of reach in a second. Next minute he was perched among the top- 
most branches of a laburnum, chattering defiance to his enemy, and 
using his duster as a handkerchief in the Captain’s grand manner to 
the life. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. 

The morning after his unpleasant adventure with the Diana, 
Captain Oliver Blande strolled over to pay a visit to old Josh at 
Paston. The gallant officer’s object was, in pursuance to Stark’s 
instructions, to pick up whatever information as to Ralph Lee’s for- 
mer life the veteran might happen to possess. 

Upon the table in the sitting room of the little cottage lay an 
oblong apparatus, composed of thin strips of deal glued togethei 
and lined inside with sheets of cork. It was about twice the size of 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


87 


an ordinary chessboard, and, like that article, could be doubled up 
the centre and carried underneath the arm. Mapped out upon the 
cork was a plan of the vicinity and battle field of Waterloo. Ar- 
ranged in compartments of a wooden Noah’s Ark upon the table 
were hundreds of stout, waxen-headed, painted needles, their dif- 
ferent colors marking the regiments of the mimic armies they were in- 
tended to represent. 

Thus, a needle painted black, surmounted by a rude imitation of a 
human skull, was a Black Brunswicker; ared-bodied needle, wearing 
a bearskin cap, British grenadier; blue body and shako stood for 
Prussian soldier ; needles in red breehes and with tri-colored cock- 
ades were French, and so on ; each component element of the motley 
forces engaged in the great battle being distinguished by an appro- 
priate emblem. Cavalry were known bj^ a short cross-bar half-way 
down the needle, to signify a horse. Besides the regiments, out of 
the ark came pasteboard parks of artillery, miniature gabions and 
faseines, a straw Hougoumont, and various oth^r properties essential 
to the adequate representation of the drama. The leaders of the 
forces were typified in more ambitious guise. Josh having had the 
effigies of these great commanders constructed in town by an ingen- 
ious artist, from the most authentic portraits that could be procured. 

Manager Josh had been busily engaged throughout the morning 
in the inspection of his company, here re-varnishing a Brunswicker’s 
skull, there giving a fiercer curl to a French marshal’s moustache 
and was now occupied in the delicate surgical operation of raising 
the bridge of the English commander’s prominent nose, damaged in 
previous campaigns. On a sudden came a knock at the cottage door, 
and Captain Blande was ushered in. 

The sergeant-major rose, and promptly saluted. 

‘‘Morning, sergeant; pray sit down,” returned the Captain. 
“Hard at work, I see. Got a curious sort of affair there. What 
does it all mean, if I may ask ? ” 

Now this was taking the veteran upon his weak side. Every 
man has his hobby ; the exhibition of the Battle of Waterloo was 
the sergeant’s. Nothing delighted him more than to be asked to ex- 
plain the model of which he was so proud. Here was an intelligent 
auditor, he thought, versed in the science of war, vastly superior 
to the gaping rustics or humdrum civilian townspeople who formed 
Ills usual audiences; a man who could thorougly appreciate the 




ALBANY STARK^S RBVENG]^, 


subject. Gods! wbat unhoped-for delight I The sergeant immedi- 
ately^ launched forth into a description of his puppets, while 
Captain Blande sat patiently by, and listened, smiling. 

The Captain was much too old a soldier to rush headlong upon 
the foe without reconnoitering. He let the sergeant run on for acon- 
siderable time before he ventured a hint upon the subject of his visit. 

“Very ingenious, sergeant, ’pon my word,” he observed at last. 
“Must have cost you some time and a good deal of trouble now, 
that model, V\l be bound. Pray, did you ever show it to the family 
at the Grange ? 

“Never, your honor,” returned Old Josh, with an emphatic wave 
of his hand, “never, Farmer and Mr. William knows nothing about 
tactics, sir. If ’t were a litter o’ prime pigs now, they’d never have 
enough. Farmer thinks more about the points of a bull than the 
conduct of a battle, any day. Ha! — ha! — ho! Beg pardon, your 
honor.” 

The sergeant had a peculiar laugh, producing an almost demon- 
iac effect when you first heard it. He seemed conscious of its un- 
earthly character himself, for he invariably apologised after its use. 

“ Bravo, sergeant! I quite agree with you. But you meet with 
a more appreciative audience at The Towers, I make no doubt ? ” 

“Well — yes, your honor, yes,” returned Josh dubiously. “Pretty 
weH, on the whole — hulloa! That’s a bad look-out.” 

“ What’s the matter ? ” 

Byway of answer. Josh held up one of his puppets; and turned 
it to the light. There was no mistaking the personage the figure 
was intended to represent. The sharply-cut features, surmounted 
by a small cocked-hat, the historical grey riding-coat, the white pan- 
taloons and high boots reaching to the knee, the arms folded in a 
composed and quiet attitude across the breast, all told an eye famil- 
iar with the battle-pictures of the first fifteen years of the century, 
that the effigy of the greatest man-destroyer of modern times — sauf 
the late President of the once Model Republic — stood before him. 

“That’s Napoleon,” said Captain Blande, nodding. “And a very 
good likeness, too. Don’t know that I ever saw a better. Did you 
model it yourself?” 

“Not I, your honor,” replied Josh with a deprecatory wave of the 
hand. “Wish I could, but that’s a touch beyond me. Now here’s 
a state of things. What’s to be done now ? ” 


Albany stark^s r^x^ng^. 


89 


“Why, what’s the matter?” repeated Blande. 

“Matter, your honor ! Matter enough indeed. Here’s the Hem- 
pcror been and lost his field-glass in the la.st engagement, and I never 
found it out till now. My hartiist lives in ^wn, up in the Dials, and 
I’m to give my exhibition to-night afore Councillor Griggs’s party 
in Lynn. What ever is to be done ? ” 

“Why, do without it, to be sure,” suggested Blande. “What does 
Griggs know about such things ? ” 

“Send the Hemperor Boneyparty into haction without his field- 
glass, 3'our honor!” exclaimed Josh, aghast. “Why, how’s he to 
counteract the henemy’s manoevres if he can’t see ’em? Grigges 
folks might n’t find out the loss, but i could n’t forget it. Tsha! 
tsha ! tsha ! That is a misfortun’ ! ” 

“Can’t you rig up a temporary kind of affair with cardboad ? ” 
asked Oliver. “ A little gum and a daub or two of paint would ren- 
der it.complete. Here; I’ll do it for you in a moment.” 

Josh caught at the idea and thanked him warmly. Blande drew 
up to the table, and his nimble fingers speedily produced the required 
article. While twisting it into shape, he continued his questions 
with apparent carelessness. 

“So they like your exhibition at The Towfi-s, sergeant, eh? Who 
is your chief patron — the Captain or Miss Guenever?” 

“Well, Cap’n Lee mainly, sir. I/adies, you see, specially young 
ones, don’t care much about the dry details of a campaign. They like 
to hear ’em told once just for novelty like, but it’s the fine uniforms 
and the handsome faces”— here Josh stroked his own lantern jaws — 
“the prancing horses and the stirring music, that takes the ladies* 
fancy in a sodger’s life. But Lord ! .'ap’n, you know all about that 
as well as I do. Listen to me now, while I tell you how we stormed 
the shatto.” 

Away started the sergeant-major once more into the thick of 
the attack and defense of Hougoumont, diverging presently into a 
general account of the great battle, while the Captain listened 
quietl3% patiently, wrapt in apparent delight of the narrator’s 
graphic power, waiting, watching his opportunity as the crafty spi- 
der watches the gambols of the buzzing fly. 

After a time the opportunitv" came. The sergeant suddenly pulled 
up short in describing the repulse of Milhaud’s cuirassiers by an 
English square, with the remark: 


90 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


‘‘But I ax your honor’s pardon. You must ha’ read all about it over 
an’ over again. ’Taint like them ignorant Paston folk, or even the 
fam’ly at The Towers, which is better eddicated, an’ yet don’t take 
no interest to speak of. Why, though ’t is hard on thirty year ago, 
my old blood stirs even now when I think on the gallant English 
squares at Waterloo.” 

‘‘ True,'Rich,” returned the Captain. “ The Lees are not intellectual 
people, but then they are well-off, which is more to the purpose now- 
a-days. The Captain is very wealthy, I believe, is he not ? ” 

“Tremendous rich. And yet for all that, do you know, sir, I can 
recollect the time when he had n’t, ah ! not sixpence to bless himself 
with, so to speak.” ^ 

“You astonish me.”' 

“Ah! but I can though. And what’s more, I remember when Far- 
mer Blythe, who’s now well-to-do in the world, with his own free- 
hold an’ lots o’ laborers under him, I can recollect when he was only 
bailiff to the Squire of Thorne, and as poor as Job.” 

“ He must have worked very hard then, to have risen so rapidly.” 

“Farmer’s been a persevering man, yer honor, there’s no doubt. 
Always stuck to one thing ; never been a rolling stone. But for all 
that, nobody ever could understand how he got the means to buy 
Paston. Some say ’t was through saving, but a man can’t save hun- 
dreds, if not thousands, off a laborer’s wages, and his pay was little 
more. Some say ’t was through his wife — Captain Lee’s sister — but 
I don’t see as how that can be neither. The Lee’s was always poor 
folk, till the Captain made his great hit and married the heiress over 
in Jimaiky. It’s a mysterious family altogether, and nobody can’t 
exactly make ’em out.” 

“Oh! Captain Lee married a West Indian lady, did he? No doubt 
that’s where the property comes from. What year might that be, 
sergeant, do you happen to recollect ? ” 

“Well, let me see. ’T is so long ago, I can’t hardly call to mind, 
an’ I abroad too at the time. Let me see. ’T was 1810 he first 
went away to sea; two years after— 1812— as he had that affair 
with old Crowe ” 

“Stop a moment, sergeant. Have a cigar. Here, try one of these; 
you ’ll find them genuine. — What affair was that ? ” 

As he spoke, Oliver handed an embroidered cigar-case to the 
veteran. Old Josh — never adverse to a luxury at another’s expense 


ALBANY STARK^S REVBNGB. 


91 


—thanked the donor heartily and accepted the gift. After a few 
moments inhalation of the smoke, he proceeded to relate the story 
of Farmer Crowe’s courtship of Annis, of Ralph Lee’s encounter 
with his sister’s persecutor, of his flight, and the farmer’s subsequent 
death. The narrative was entirely new to Oliver, and he listened to 
it with an interest he vainly attempted to disguise. • 

“And all that happened in 1812, you say ? ” he inquired, eagerly, 
when Josh had ended his tale. 

“Tn April. 1812,” repeated the veteran. 

“Then, by Jove!” thought Oliver, “we know now where the 
money went to I ” 

Observing Old Josh’s e^s fixed upon him with a look of inquisi- 
tive surprise, the Captain speedily resumed his usual air of high-bred 
indifference. 

“A curious story, .sergeant,” he remarked, presently re-lighting 
his cigar. “And the next that was heard of the Captain was his 
marriage in J amaica ? ” 

“Ay, ay, y'our honor, but that warn’t for years afterwards.” 

“ What was he doing in the interval there ? ” 

“That’s more nor I can say. Trading about, I fancy, in the ’Mer- 
ikin sarvice or with the East. He was never seen here again till he 
come back a few months ago.” 

The conversation changed. Fearing to arouse suspicion, Blande 
was not anxious to pursue the subject. He had gained a valuable 
clue, and reqired leisure to think over what he had heard. It was 
not long before he took his leave, and strolled back towards The 
Towers. 

“Wonder what makes the Cap’n take so much interest in them 
Lees,” soliloquised Josh as he proceeded with the inspection of his 
troops. “Wonder whether he’s got his eye on Miss Guenever. 
Should n’t be surprised if he had. Shows his good taste, that’s all. 
Might have a shy for such a prizemyselfifi was thirty years younger, 
but the time’s gone by now. Ah well I ’tis all for the best, no 
doubt.” 

Oliver Blande meanwhile was absorbed in meditation. A dozen 
plans of proceeding followed each other in his active brain, each to be 
examined, and rejected in favor of its successor. At last, when half- 
ways towards his destination, a practicable idea seemed to strike 
him. He paused a moment in his walk, then smote his cane upon 


92 


ALBANY Sf ARK’S REVENGE. 


the ground with an air which seemed to announce he had forme 1 a 
resolution, and went on at a brisker pace. 

His report that evening to Albany Stark contained an ample 
detail of the day’s interview. It ended with the words : “Send 
me down Abiah Riggs at once.” 


CHAPTER XV. 

# 

ALICE MAYNE. 

Again in Clement’s Inn, with Albany Stark at his regular morn- 
ing’s employment. His task was nearly done, when his keen eye 
lighted upon a letter accidentally pushed beneath a newspaper. He 
drew it forth. Recognizing the hand, for the first time an expression 
of interest flitted over his face. 

“ From Blande! ” he muttered, and instantly broke the seal. 

Indifference had vanished. The eagerness he always felt when 
following up an object started into life. It was his peculiarity to 
pursue his aim with untiring patience, as a bloodhound chases down 
its prey; but the result once gained, pleasure was at an end. The 
charm lay in pursuit.' Attainment satiated, and he turned away to 
start fresh game. 

“ Why don’t the blockhead explain ? ” he growled. “ His report is 
detailed enough, but he never hints his reason for wanting Riggs. 
Great mind not to send him. Shall I? Well — yes; the scent is too 
good to be neglected ; but he shall go with special private orders.” 

He laid aside Blande’s letter, and turned to finish his examina- 
tion of the rest. 

While his principal was occupied as described, the exquisite Mr. 
Nat Tiptoft had been engaged in preparing himself for the duties of 
the day. After changing his walking coat for an office garb, he 
drew a small hand-mirror from his pocket, set it up in his desk, and 
began carefully to comb, brush, and wax his beard. This important 
task finished, he drew back a pace or two, with his head on one side, 
to observe the effect. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


93 


‘‘That’s about the style, I fancy,” he murmured, approvingly. 
“The regular foreign touch, and no mistake. Just the way in which 
that French swell up in Regent Street had his beard arranged. 
Mine’s finer than that was though; more of it and longer, only his 
was black. Well, after all, color ’s a matter of taste.” 

It was Nat’s great ambition to be taken for a “distinguished 
foreigner.” 

“Curious now,” he continued, stepping further back and holding 
his head stilllmoreon one side; “curious how real character 

comes out in those outlandish swells. They don’t get chevied and 
yelled at when they go about either, somehow. And I am, often. 
It must be the climate, I suppose, or the democratic nature of our 
institutions, or the brutal ignorance of the lower classes, or some 
beastly nuisance of that sort. I wish I’d been born a Spanish gran- 
dee. Should n’t I have looked the character to the life ! ” 

Nat drew himself up proudly, and strutted across the room. 
One hand was planted upon his left hip, the other blandly waved in 
air. He threw out his short legs with an inimitable swagger as he 
walked through two lines of imaginary dependents, and distributed 
gracious bows on either hand. 

“Don Alphonzo Medina-Sidonia y Gatierrez y Calatrava, or some 
such glorious high-sounding title. That’s what my name ought to 
have been. Don’t it roll over the tongue splendid, like a three- 
decker firing a salute. Instead of which I’m only plain Nathaniel 
Tiploft— Nat ! ” He jerked out the obnoxious syllable with an air 
of inexpressible contempt, and accompanied it with a gesture of 
disdain. 

“ Worsethanthat, for there’s another name in between, which I keep 
dark. I was positively christened Nathaniel Rabbetts, after a wretched 
old aunt who never left me twopence. Fancy the indignty of a man 
being called Rabbetts, and all for nothing ! If my godfather and god- 
mother were alive, blessed if I would n’t bring an action against ’em 
for defamation, and get heavy damages. What right had they to 
christen a human being after a common bunny PNathaniel Rabbetts! 
Ba-ahl” 

The door had opened during his soliloquy. Turmng as he spoke, 
this last exclamation was emitted full into the face of a young lady 
that moment coming in. 

She started back with a faint cry. Disconcerted Nat hastened to 


94 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


apologize, whipped his toilet paraphernalia into his pocket, begged 
her to take a chair, and requested to know in what way he could be 
of service. 

The lady was not only young, but very pretty. A tall, elegantly- 
dressed brunette, quiet and composed in manner, and remarkable 
for a pair of large, brilliant brown eyes. Tiptoft, the impressionable, 
w'as smitten on the spot. 

Is Mr. Stark within ? she asked. * 

“He is, madam — ahem! miss,^’ was the hesitating reply. 

I wish to see him, if you please. Be good enough to take in this 
card.’* 

Nat glanced at the pasteboard, and kept it in his hand. The 
lady looked at him with surprise. 

“You see, Miss, er — ahem — Miss Alice Mayne, the governor’s very 
busy just now, and wouldn’t like to be disturbed,” observed Nat, 
with an easy, confidential air. “If it’s legal business you’ve come 
about, I shall be ’appy to advise. I’m his managing man.” 

The young lady threw back her head proudly, and gazed full 
into Nat’s admiring face. 

“You must have misunderstood me, I think. I wish to see Mr. 
Stark personally — no one else. Have the goodness to take in my 
card at once.” 

There was a quiet determination in her voice which rather daunted 
Mr. Nat. Possessing a considerable stock of impudence, however, 
both native and acquired, he thought he would try to prolong the 
interview. 

“You may as well tell me your business,” he answered, leaning 
over the back of a tilted chair. “It’s sure to come into my depart- 
ment some time or another, you know. If it’s legal advice I shall 
do just as well as him.” 

He jerked his thumb in the diretion of Albany Stark’s private 
room, leering, as he did so, into the proudly indignant face before 
him. Nat had enormous faith in his powers of fascination, and 
rather flattered himself he was making an impression. As indeed 
he was. 

The lady rose the instant Nat had delivered his speech. 

“I shall trouble you to take in my card this instant, sir!” she 
reiterated. “If you hesitate longer I shall acquaint your employer 
with your unaccountable insolence.” 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


95 


Her tair figure towered above the diminutive shape as she pointed 
with outstretched arm to the private door. Thoroughly cowed, 
Nat slunk into Stark’s room, issuing presently with a request for 
the lady to walk in. 

“ My eye !” muttered Nat, as he turned to his desk. ‘‘What a 
strapper! Can’t she order a fellow about too, and what’s more, make 
him do just as she likes! She’s quite the lady, that’s clear. There’s 
a look about the real article, somehow, you can tell with half an 
eye. What the deuce can she want with the governor? ’’ 

He stole on tiptoe to the door, then* applied his eye for a minute 
to the keyhole, and returned disappointed to his desk. 

“It’s no use peeping,” he grumbled. “ I know that of old. She’s 
in the client’s chair at the table, and Stark by the window. It 
would never do for him to find me eavesdropping.” 

Had Nat’s inquisitiveness been fully satisfied, he would not have 
learned much. 

The first greeting of his visitor over, Albany Stark had handed 
her a card. His cold but formal politeness presented a marked con- 
trast to the forward impudence of his manager. 

“That is the address forwarded by my agent at Lynn, Miss 
Mayne,” said the lawyer. “The lady is bedridden, it appears, 
through an accident which has crippled her for life. I belive you 
will find the situation comfortable, and the terms are those you 
gave me to understand you could accept.” 

Alice Mayne glanced at the address, and read the name aloud : 
“ ‘ Mrs. Blythe, Paston Grange, Lynn, Norfolk.’ I am greatly obliged, 
sir, for your kindness. May I ask what I am indebted ? ” 

“My fee is one guinea,” returned Albany Stark; then added, with 
a grim effort to be jocular, “we lawyers live by fees, you know, or I 
should be happy to make an exception in your favor. Thank you. 
If you need my services again, you may always find me here. Good 
morning.” 

He bowed with stately courtesy, holding open the door as she 
passed out. Tiptoft hastened to follow his principal’s example, 
though he shot a final leer at the handsome face as it vanished from 
his sight. 

“ She has grown a fine girl !” soliloquised the lawyer, as he re- 
seated himself at his desk. “ I recollect when eyes like those would 
have set me in a glow for the day. Now,” and a bitter smile curled 


96 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


his lip, ‘‘they strike on adamant. By the way, Oliver has a keen 
scent for beauty, and she’ll be in his neighborhood. Were I to drop 
a hint not to waste too much tiAe in her society, he would seek her 
instantly. What an explosion would follow! Let us hope they 
will not meet.” 

The bitter smile spread until it involved his cheeks and lent a 
malignant glitter to his eye. The wrong he had to avenge upon 
society must have been very deep, for its recollection even,madehim 
gloat with pleasure upon possible misery to an innocent girl. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


tiptoft’s mission. 

Mid-day had passed before Nat Tiptoft saw anything of his 
employer again. 

Stark had not been alone during the interval, but Nat had seen 
nothing of those who might have visited him. Besides the door 
leading from the counting-house, there was another entrance into 
the private room from the passage outside, through which persons 
often came. But who these were or upon what business they sought 
his principal, Nat was entirely ignorant. 

It was a great vexation lio his inquisitive mind to hear low 
voices talking in the room beyond, and to be unable to catch the 
purport of what they said. He would have crept to the door to 
listen, had he dared; but knew it was not safe. Funks or Twitter 
might come in with a question at any moment, The door might 
be suddenly thrown open, and he be detected by Stark. He was 
the more cautious because this latter mishap had taken place once, 
and the lawyer had sternly warned him that its recurrence would 
entail dismissal. Nat’s hours were easy and his work was ligh<. 
His taste for foppish luxuries absorbed his salary, good as it was, 
and, as he sagely argued, decent berths weren’t picked up every day. 

So he put the bridle upon curiosity and keptsteadily tohis work. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


97 


He had just returned from dinner when Albany Stark came out of 
his room, and walked up to his manager’s side. 

“Tiptoft,” he said, “you know Riggs?’* 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Where is he to be found ? ” 

“That’s not so easy to say, sir,” returned Nat, biting his pen in 
some perplexity. “Prowlng about some of those haunts of his, no 
doubt, but the question is which.” 

“ Well, you must find him. Go down this evening and look him 
up. Tell him to be here to-morrow at ten exactly, and to mind he 
comes sober. Impress that upon him particularly, do you hear?'» 

“ Yes, sir. But suppose I can’t find him ? ” 

“ Look till you do,” was the cool rejoinder. “ He is to be here at 
ten, mind, prepared for a journey. I’m going out now. If anybody 
calls, say I shall return in an hour.” 

Nat looked after his employer with anything but a loving eye as 
he went out. 

“You back in an hour,” he muttered, when sure Stark was out of 
hearing. “ I know better than that. We shan’t set eyes on your ugly 
phiz again to-day. And yef who’s to tell ? That’s the way he al- 
ways serves me,” he continued in an injured tone, addressing 
vacancy. “ Says he’s coming back and don’t ; or says he’s going for 
good and pops in when you feel all right. I hate such nasty mean 
suspicious ways. A fellow never knows when he’s safe. 

“A pretty job he’s left me, too!” he added, after a pause. “To 
go looking after that beast of a Yankee in all those confounded 
slums. Why, it’s as much as a fellow’s life’s worth to be seen in 
some of ’em. Well, I know what I shall do. I’ll use every precau- 
tion, and hang me if I take much trouble about it. Let Stark do 
his dirty work himself, and be dashed to him, say I! ” 

Much comforted by this resolution, Nat wrote on at his books 
until it was time to leave. He dismissed the elderly clerks, locked 
up the office, delivered the key to the housekeeper, and went his 
way home to his lodgings at Camberwell to tea. 

You may think it strange that, having to return to town in the 
course of the evening, Nat should take the trouble to go so far away. 
But he had a double-headed reason for acting as he did. The fact 
of its being quite useless to proceed in search of Riggs until a com- 
paratively late hour made up one head; the necessity of some little 


98 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


private preparations for that dreaded expedition, which he could 
not make at the officCj constituted the other. 

Tea over, Nat sat himself down to his usual evening’s occupa- 
tion. An amateur brass band to which he belonged met for practice 
at a tavern in the neighborhood, the landlord having considerately 
assigned its members a dilapidated barn-like structure at the end of 
his tea-gardens, a good distance from the house. Here some dozen 
young men met twice weekly to make night hideous; and' in this 
collection of aspirants to musical fame Nat plays the cornet-a-pistons. 

Now the sound of any brass instrument, attempted by a person 
imperfectly acquainted with its powers, is never of a wildly cheerful 
and hilarious kind, even when the performer practises airs and 
tunes. A halt is apt to take place at a touching part of the melody, 
or an inadverient squeak intrude where the note should have been a 
decided grunt. But then you can generally trace what was intended; 
which affords solace. 

Nat’s musical practice was altogether of a different kind. He was 
what, I believe, is called by the initiated “second cornet’’ in the 
band, which means that he had only to dash in at certain intervals 
when his assistance was required by his chief. A bystander therefore, 
while Nat was practicing, heard something of this kind : 

A hard stamp of Nat’s foot ; tra-la-la ; another stamp ; tra-la-la ; 
stamp, stamp, stamp; tid-di-tum-tum-tum ; three bars’ rest; toodle 
oodle oodle li-ee-tee, tiddle-de-dee, with a very high flourish at the 
end reminding you of the tight curl in a little pig’s tail, then a sud- 
den descent to a deep and prolonged boom boom bo-oo-oo-oo-oom. 

Here Nat would reverse his cornet, shake out sundry drops of 
intrusive moisture, draw a long breath, looking ver3^ red and wild 
about the eyes the while, then pull himself together and start off 
again with renewed vigor. He called this description of torture 
“part practice.” 

Devotion to this mania caused Nat much trouble in the matter 
of lodgings. Unaccommodating land-ladies without the slightest 
ear (in a musical sense) had been known to dash inti' his room 
when he was in the agonies of a most difficult bit of fugue, and in- 
sist upon his instantly leaving off “them hawful noises,” or quitting 
the premises that day week. Others would send up the small ser- 
vant with sarcastic messages, such as “Please, sir, missus’s com- 
pliments and did you know the chillen was all abed and asleep?” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


99 


or the compliments again, and “Missus says her ’ouse ain’t Bedlam, 
please sir, nor yet Coney ’atch; or information that “You mayn’t 
perhaps be aweer, sir, missus says, that the lady next door ’as just 
laid in with her thirteenth, and the doctor ’ave forbidden hall ex- 
citement.” After each and every of which messages the cornet was 
instantly dumb. 

Persecuted Nat changed his tactics. He rose early in the morn- 
ing, and practiced before the house was up. But here he got into 
worse trouble than before. The first morning passed off quietly, 
but on the second came the storm. Nat was busily engaged in 
practice, had been trying the same troublesome passage over about 
a score of times, and was just beginning to master it, when he was 
startled by a rude shake of the arm and a gruff voice bellowing into 
his ear: 

“Are you going to stop that infernal hullabaloo or are you not? 
Bad enough to have to work all night, but can’t stand being woke 
out ’o one’s first sleep by that tarnation cracked penny trumpet ! ” 

Nat gazed at his night-shirted interrogator in dismay. The man 
was a compositor on a morning paper, who, only getting to bed 
about 4 a. m., was not unnaturally wrathful at being turned out at 
six. Nat, on the other hand, felt extremely irate at the abuse of his 
instrument. Words ensued. The sleep-broken printer ultimately 
styled Nat an adjective — hairy-chinned monke\' — a statement lead- 
ing to a hand-to-hand conflict, in which somebody (not the printer) 
got a black eye, and a certain unoffending cornet received a severe 
contusion. All of which came of ill-timed “ part practice.” 

Warned by previous mishaps, Nat had engaged the lodgings he 
now occupied by written agreement for “three months certain,” and 
was therefore at liberty to make himself a nuisance for that period. 

He continued his practice upon the present occasion until nine 
o’clock, and then began to prepare for his expedition. 

He chose the shabbiest suit in his possession, a broad-brimmed 
wide-awake hat, and a rough blue over-coat. 

“No use casting pearls before swine,” he muttered, as he struggled 
into his disguise. “ Down about Riggs’s quarter, the aborigines 
couldn’t appreciate elegance of dress. Now for the means of defence. 

Yes, I’ll take the bowie in its sheath, for fear of accidents; the 
pistol — is it loaded? Yes; all right. Then the life-destroyer up the 


100 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE, 


left sleeve, so as to be handy at a pinch, What else? Oh! the 
sword-cane and dirk. Now I think we’re pretty well equipped.” 

He gave a self-satisfied glance at himself in the chimney glass as 
he turned to go, and departed, bearing a perfect am o *y of lethal 
weapons about his small person he would never have dared to use. 

Ten o’clock at night in High Street, Wapping. The public-houses 
and gin-palaces are in full swing; the tide of custom, which consists 
in rapid flow of liquor down consumers’ throats, is just approaching 
flood. Outside, along the pavement, circulates an uproarious, a 
jovial and a motley throng. 

The nautical element chiefly predominates. Sunburnt Jack Tars, 
of every hue and from every maritime country under heaven, swing 
carelessly along, emitting clouds of smoke from cigar or pipe, and 
with a fair companion hanging on either arm. 

An experienced eye can tell a sailor’s nationality at a glance. 
Here comes a Dutchman — short, sturdy, thickset, with a stolid eye 
and a broad, fleshy face, yet a brave undaunted fellow in danger or 
storm. When the waves dash mountains high, switching the mast- 
heads with wips of flaky snow, as cold and trenchant as steel, the 
word is passed for a volunteer to cut away a flapping sail. For- 
ward steps solid Jan Bugspriet, eyes the sail quietly, then shifts his 
quid, climbs the shrouds with slow but steady foot, lies out upon 
the yards with knife between his teeth. Just as he has fulfilled his 
daring task, swoops down a sudden blast. The ship rolls; sail and 
sailor are whirled away together like feathers on the gale. “ Fare- 
well, mates! ” comes upon the snatches of the wind. Greet Kath- 

chen for me and the old mother ! Fare ” Swallowed up by the 

howling of the tempest, the voice is heard no more. 

Swede, Dane, Norwegian, German, Fin— all have much of the 
Hollander in their composition. Less flesh and phlegm, perhaps, 
but nearly as much cool and determined bravery. All are excellent 
and hardy seamen. 

Of English Jack what need to speak? **Good wine,” says the 
proverb, “needs no bush.” The English sailor’s superiority is ad- 
mitted throughout the world, and has been shown on every sea. 

Pass to France, Italy or Spain, and you shall find good seamen 
too, though the material is not the same. Brave, fiery, spirited and 
hot, excellent for boarding work or at a rush, in quiet endurance 
the cool and dauntless Saxon tires them out. Fair-weather sailors 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVBNGB, 


101 


at tlie best, the hour of peril shows the flaw in the metal. Your 
Frenchman holds aloof with moody curse and goes to the bottom 
with an execration or a sneer. Comes a squall, the swarthy South- 
erner plumps down upon his knees, - weeping pra3"ers to Madonna 
and promises of tall wax candles to patron saints, in place of taking 
manful hold of the ropes and pulling himself out of danger by his 
own strong arms. These men are not of the stuff that won Trafal- 
gar, and gave to England a Nelson and a Peel. 

Other swart faces may be seen in High street, Wapping, besides 
those bronzed by the hot kiss of Europe’s southern sun. There 
shivers the brown Lascar, cursing the day he stepped on our in- 
clement shore; there struts the fierce Malay, ‘‘sudden and quick to 
anger,” with hand upon the haft of a hidden knife which he is never 
slow to use ; there shufiles the conceited, slit-eyed Chinaman, half- 
stupified with opium, marvelling at the ignorance of the barbarians 
who do not breakfast on snails and earthworms, or make soup of 
birds’-nests, and who ignore the toothsomeness of rat or puppy-pie. 

In one point however Jack, under a white or a dark skin, is 
almost invariably the same. When ashore, he loves a “spree.” 
Fond as he usually is of his vocation, looking down with ill disguised 
contempt upon land-lubbers of every degree, the long months he has 
passed with no other outlook than sea and sky, varied by speaking 
an occasional ship, make him appreciate with keener zest the delights 
of shore-going life. 

This known partiality renders Jack an easy prey. Down Wap- 
ping way whole classes live upon the sailor ashore, clinging to him 
as tightly asbarnaclesto a ship’s keel. Nothing is too good for him, 
nothing too costly, nothing too precious. To him the bowingland- 
lord opens wide his doors; for his custom the servile tradesman 
eagerly touts; upon him venal beauty casts its most inviting smiles. 
He is feted and caressed, cockered and humored, until at last comes 
the fatal hour when it is found his last coin has been extracted from 
his too facile purse. He is treated then as the sucked orange or the 
marrowless bone, is chucked remorselessly aside, until his finances 
are recruited by another voyage, and he returns to go through the 
old process all over again. 

But it is Jack’s own fault now if he falls into the snares of the 
spoiler. Sailor’s Homes will receive him, an’ he choose, the moment 
he sets foot on shore, will board and lodge him at moderate cost 


102 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGB. 


while he is in health, will tend him carefully and well should- he fall 
sick, will take charge of his money and his valuables, ad vise him how 
to invest his savings to the best advantage, and provide him with a 
ship when, grown tired of shore, he desires to return to sea. I write 
however of a time when these admirable institutions did not exist. 

The most cor\^picous building at that date in High Street, Wap- 
ping was a large and lofty public-house, called “The Rodney’s 
Head'.” The sign was sufficient to ensure its popularity with Jack. 
The proprietor spared no expense to attract the nautical mind. Mu- 
sic-halls as yet were not, or be sure a flaring placard outside would 
have announced an immense concentration of first rate instrumental 
and vocal talent. In their place a large room at the back of the 
building was fitted up as a dancing saloon. 

There was a stage at the end of the apartment also, upon which 
from time to time a vocalist came forward in character and sang 
songs, not too refined or decent; but supposed on that account to 
be all the more appreciated by the auditors. At the side of the plat- 
form sat players upon harp, cornet, fiddle, flageolet, and drum. The 
last instrument, being the noisiest, was a particular favorite. 

Round the room were placed tables and chairs, and the middle 
space was reserved for dancing. The company, as may be supposed, 
was very mixed. Sailors and their doxies, alternated with foreign 
mechanics and their sweethearts, interspersed with here and there a 
languid “ swell ” from regions farther west, who had strayed into the 
sailor’s quarter to see a little common life, and wondered secretly at 
the peculiar character of hat which met his eye. True to the im- 
passive bearing of the tribe, he would have died sooner than betray 
the least visible astonishment. 

Curious specimens of dancing had been going on for some time 
in the saloon. The great aim of the sailors seemed to be to jump 
about without much regard to step or figure. Rapid movement and 
plenty of hugging satisfied Jack. The German mechanics alone, 
with their countrywomen, spun round in steady, stolid, unceasing 
waltzes until the musicians stopped playing from sheer fatigue. 

During one of these pauses, a couple of Spaniards stepped forward, 
each with a pair of castanets, and volunteered to dance a bolero. 
Toi'ender illusion more complete, the younger tar borrowed a petti- 
coat from a nymph of his acquaintance, which she slipped off with- 
out the faintest hesitation. A handkerchief, obtained from the same 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


103 


obliging source, he twisted deftly round his head as a Spanish lady 
arranges her mantilla, and the dance began. 

The lithe and active figures of the men, their graceful attitudes, 
and the quick, sharp snapping of the castanets created much excite- 
ment in the room. It was increased to positive enthusiasm by the 
capital acting of the sailor who took the female part in the dance. 
His arch imitation of coquettish shyness as he peeped from behind 
his veil, the mincing steps with which he mimicked alternate advance 
and retreat, the feigned coyness he displayed in repelling the pur- 
posely rough courtship of his companion, and the semi-reluctant air 
with which he finally yielded as the two danced otf together, would 
have done honor to far more pretentious boards than those of “The 
Rodney’s Head.” Shouts of applause greeted the close of the per- 
formance, and the spectators crowded round the pair with pots and 
glasses, proffering drink. The landlord surveyed the scene with a 
beaming face. Business was clearly looking up. 

Encouraged by the success of the Spaniards, a smart young 
English topman sprang into the arena, and called to the band to 
strike up a hornpipe. Scotch sailors followed with a reel and the 
Highland fling. Irishmen with a jig, a couple of Northumbrian col- 
liers with the clog-dance, and the jollity of the evening began to rise 
high. Drink was called for in increasing quantities and readily sup- 
plied. The landlord’s face shone more benignantly than ever, for bus- 
iness was most decidedly looking up. 

At this period Tiptoft strolled into the room. He had been 
searching in all the public-houses throughout the neighborhood 
where he thought it likely Riggs was to be found, but had not suc- 
ceeded in meeting him. Attracted by the cheers and laughter at 
“The Rodney’s Head.” he had come on thither as a last resource. If 
his man was not here, he should seek no further. 

He dropped into a chair at one of the tables and stared round 
with lack-lustre eye. To say truth, the potations with which he had 
thought necessary to accompany his quest had exercised a powerful 
effect upon a head naturally not over-strong, and exquisite Mr. Nat 
was, not to speak rudely, very far from sober. He just knew what 
he was doing, and that was all. 

Different men are variously affected in their cups. Some become 
morose, some cheerful, others amorous. Nat’s case was the last of 


104 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


the three, and, as ill-luck would have it, temptation was cast in his 
path. 

Adjoining the table at which he sat was a party of foreign work- 
men, with there wives and sweethearts. Close to Nat, so close that 
her chair touched his, was a ponderous specimen of German maiden- 
hood, very tall, very much developed, very blooming. Nat, being a 
little man, by a natural law was a great admirer of feminine beauty 
upon a large scale. Here it was, upon the very largest; and he was 
proportfonably enraptured. 

True so far to the object of his mission as to cast a hasty glance 
round the room, and ascertain that Riggs was nowhere to be seen, 
Nat abandoned himself to the contemplation of his fair enslaver. 
The girl was accompanied by a stout, strong-built young fellow- 
countryman, to whom she was shortly to be married. Secure of his 
prize, the lover was devoting less attention to the lady than she ex- 
actly approved. She soon saw she had got a new admirer, and, 
with the not over-refined perceptions of her class, considered Nat, in 
default of another, a favourable object .wherewith to arouse the 
jealousy of her fickle swain. She drew up her head, arched her neck, 
toyed with portions of her dress, simpered and giggled, and cast an 
occasional glance of encouragement towards Nat. He was not slow 
to accept the challenge, faced round upon his chair, and the pair 
were soon engaged in conversation. 

A friend of the lover called his attention to the large maiden’s 
proceedings. Stalwart Franz Hagedorn, journeyman sugar-baker 
by occupation, felt aggrieved to an extraordinary degree. He had 
been stolidly waltzing with his beloved, after the fashion of their 
country, throughout the evening, had then set her down to sausages 
and beer, and considered he had thereby done his duty. But to see 
himself cut out by a shabbily-dressed ugly little Englander was more 
than his equanimity could bear. 

Franz rose, walked round the table carrying his chair with him, 
dashed it angrily upon the floor between his sweetheart and Nat, 
and planted his broad foundation upon its seat. 

Herr ! ” he growled into Nat’s ear. Dat young vomans is mine 
madchen, mine sveetheart. .You ave not noting mit her to shpeak. 
Hear you?” 

“Oh, yes, I have,” snapped Nat. “Lots. We understand one 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


105 


another, don’t we, my dear? Get out o’ the way, there’s a good 
fellow. You ain’t transparent, you know.” 

“ Herr-r-r ! ” repeated Franz, in a more menacing tone. ** I tell you 
dat young vomans is to me. If you shpeak her von oder vord, I box 
you in de eye.” 

He clenched his fist with a threatening gesture, and shook it in 
Tiptoft’s face. Nat felt uncomfortable, but did not like to show 
himself in a disadvantageous light by drawing back before the girl. 

”0h, no, you won’t!” he answered, with an assumption of 
bravery he did not feel. “We don’t want him, my dear, do we? 
There, you see; she says no. Get out of the way, can’t you, stupid?” 

Enforcing his words with a sudden jerk of his elbow, harder per- 
haps than he intended, which tilted Franz Hagerdorn’s chair, the 
German lost his balance, andfell backwards with a thundering crash 
upon the floor. 

The mishap brought repentance to the heart of his fickle mistress. 
Springing up with a scream, she rushed to her lover’s side and helped 
him to rise, poring out a flood of guttral consolation which seemed 
balm to his wounded feelings. Sobered by the shock, Nat tried to 
slink away, but was stopped by two of the sugar-baker’s friends. 

“You ton’t get off like dat, mine leetel chaps,” said one. “Franz 
shall have a vord to shpeak mit you in von eye-wink.” 

Nat remonstrated, but without effect. The quarrel attracted 
notice, and others began to gather around. Franz Hagedorn, re- 
covered by this time from the sudden bump of his hard skull upon 
the floor, rushed into the circle and aimed a furious blow at his 
rival. Observing the attack in time, Nat dodged aside, and the pon- 
derous fist plumped into the midst of the glasses on the table. 

This was the signal for a general fight — the usual termination, 
by the way, of festivities at “The Rodney’s Head.” The sailors 
gathered round Nat and embraced his quari'el; the Germans rallied 
to their countrymen’s side, and took up his cause. Superior weight 
was upon the side of the foreigners, mostly burly men of sturdy 
build ; but activity and skill in fisticuffs turned the scale in favor of 
the tars. 

Once, twice, thrice the Germans, though beaten back and terribly 
mauled, came on manfully to the charge, but were each time repulsed 
and on the last occasion driven, fighting desperately , clear out of the 
saloon. Fists were not the only weapons used. Anything that 


106 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE, 


came handy was pressed into the service. Chair legs were twisted 
from the frames, and wielded with due effect. Pots clattered about 
the combatants^ ears. One sailor, driven into a corner by four Ger- 
mans, rushed through his enemies, and snatching a fiddle from the 
aghast performer’s hands, beat time with the instrument upon his 
opponents’ heads. 

Nat did not come off scot free in the encounter. Though at first 
he kept well in the rear of his helpers, the tide of battle carried him 
twice into the centre of the foe. He tried to use his pistol, but it 
was dashed from his hands before he could pull the trigger. His 
bowie-knife and sword-cane were snatched away and flung through 
a window into the street. His life-destroyer served to strengthen 
the enemy’s hands. The second time he fell into the power of the 
Germans, ill-luck brought him in contact with Franz Hagedorn. The 
sugar-baker knocked Nat down with a blow which blackened both 
his eyes, then lugged him up and began malignantly chocking his 
small opponent into insensibility. 

Just at this critical moment occurred the third charge of the 
sailors, led on by a tall and bony fellow who had not long entered 
the saloon. They dashed into the German ranks with a resistless 
rush and a cheer. Their leader felled Franz like an ox in the shambles, 
with a well-aimed blow from a shot slung in a handkerchief, and 
grasping Nat by the beard, lugged him yelling out of the fray. 

“Kim along, my cocky!” shouted the tall sailor, squirting a 
stream of tobacco-juice out of the corner of his mouth. “Snakes, 
Britisher, yon ’coon would ha’ took your scalp in another minnit if 
it hadn’t been for h by Riggs 1 ” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


AT THE GRANGE. 

Some few days after Nat’s expedition in search of Abiah Riggs, 
William Blythe and his mother were in, earnest conversation before 
the fire in the family sitting-room at Paston Grange. 


ALBANY STAkK^S REVENGE, 


107 


Antiis had now recovered as fully from the effects of the shot as 
she was ever likely to recover on this side of the grave. Her lower 
limbs were altogether paralyzed ; withered and shrunken to the size 
of those of a child. She was thus unable to move a step; was carried 
down every morning, up every night, in her son William’s strong 
and careful arms. A nurse prepared her for bed, dressed her for the 
day, and slept in the same apartment within ready call. Edward 
Blythe had occupied another room ever since the accident. 

Though little over forty at the time one hasty moment consigned 
half her body to living death, as hale and strong a specimen of 
English matronhood as was to be seen for miles, her misfortune had 
added full a score of years to her appearance. Her hair was snow ; 
her face covered with fine lines, careworn and pale, from the con- 
tinued suffering in which she lived. For the ball had lodged close to 
a network of nerves, and a slight gesture often made her thrill with 
anguish. 

But the severest pain never brought a murmur to Annis’s lips. 
You might see the head fall back upon its pillows; the e3"es turn up- 
wards, contract, and close; the features shrink and quiver, while 
drops called forth by agony poured down the poor, wrung face, 
when the parox^'sms come on, but complaint you never heard. 
Always of a reverent turn of mind, her calamity had caused her to 
draw nearer in her sorrow to the only source of strength. The long 
and weary weeks during which her fate hung trembling in the bal- 
ance, when at first she ardently, fiercely hoped for death as the re- 
lease from her heavy troubles, had resulted in the final victory over 
impatience which enabled her at last to resign herself with trusting 
faith to the will of Providence. 

Annis quitted her sick-bed purified from the dross of earthl\' 
passions and desires. A striking contrast to the sprightly, loving 
lass who so tenderly cheered her despondent lover at the rustic stile, 
she formed an even more attractive picture now. Self-denial, pa- 
tience, charity, resignation — the grandest virtues that ennoble the 
human soul — combined with hope and faith to make her character 
all but perfect. Her physical charms had vanished ; moral loveliness 
— the beauty of the angels — remained. 

A singular phenonomon accompanied the change. As if to com 
pensate for the partial death of her bod^^, her mental vigor was 
remarkably increased. Her judgment, always clear, had now be- 


lOS 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGB. 


came unerring. Her insight into motives had grown extraordinarily 
keen. A few words — half a sentence — generall3’' gave her the clue 
to the remainder, and enabled her to anticipate what was going to 
be said. It seemed almost as if she had acquired a power she did 
not previously possess, or that some faculty, hitherto slumbering, 
had now been started into life. 

Will Blythe, stout, good, kind-hearted Will, who had always 
loved his mother as heartily as unspoiled natures only can love, 
dwelt upon her now with positive idolatry. To him she was every- 
thing, the incarnation of all that is right and virtuous and lovely 
and just. He reverenced her to that degree that her slightest wish 
was in his eye as binding as law. He watched over her, he guarded 
her, he fetched and carried for her, exactly as a faithful spaniel waits 
upon his master’s look. He wagged the tail of his mind, so to 
speak, when Annis thanked him with a smile and a loving word, 
with as much vigor and gratificatian as your ladyship’s delicate 
Fido shows when rewarded by a pat and the liver- wing of a chicken. 

The influence Annis wielded over her son was an awful power for 
one human being to exercise over another. Well for both that it 
was in hands by which it was not likely to be abused. 

Edward BhThe had never been able to look Annis or Will fairly 
in the face since the day of his return to the Grange. Though his vic- 
tim had long since fully understood the struggle he had had with his 
conscience before it was Anally overcome; though her pitying spirit 
had long since freely pardoned the sin for which she alone was bearing 
the lifelong punishment, Edward would neither believe in her for- 
giveness nor bear to look upon the work he had done. He evaded 
every opportunity of being alone with his wife ; he avoided and 
shunned her. Of an evening he shut himself up in a small room ad- 
joing the stables, under pretext of making up the accounts of the 
farm. 

Thus it came to pass that William and his mother sat before the 
fire alone, engaged in earnest talk. Will was planted on a low stool, 
his chin supported on his palms, gazing dreamily into the blaze. An- 
nis lay back on her chair-couch watchingthe expression of his face as 
she spoke. 

“ If I could only persuade your father not to take what has oc- 
curred so much to heart, my boy, it would be a great happiness to 
me,*' she said. “ It is inevitable. He would do well to be resigned." 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


109 


Will uttered a sound whicli might pass for assent or negation, 
but bore strong family likeness to a grunt. 

“I know it’s very hard for him,” she went on, pensively, “to be 
burdened with an invalid wife, an incumbrance instead of a help. I 
ought to be a comfort, Will, dear, to his declining years, but I’m 
afraid I’m a terrible trouble and expense. Well, Will ; we must be 
patient, and hope he will grow reconciled at last. But it’s a sore 
trial to your poor father, Will ; a sore trial, my boy.” 

\\/'ill repeated his grunt, but his brow contracted. A shade of 
disappointment flitted over his mother’s face. She sighed, then 
resumed: 

“Though I can do so little to help him. Will, you can do much. 
You might be a far greater assistance to him than you are. I’m so 
far recovered now that time will not hang heavy on my hands. So 
I’m thinking of letting you off nursing to aid your father, and — 
and finding someone else to take your place.” 

She found it difficult to finish her little speech, for Will faced rap- 
idly round upon his stool, and stared with blank dismay into her 
face. 

“ Some one else ! ” he repeated. 

“Yes, dear,” replied his mother, laying her hand lovingly upon his 
head. “Not that I’m tired of you, or think any one will be more at- 
tentive to my troublesome wants than you are. Don’t fancy that, 
my boy, for a moment. Indeed I shall miss you sorely. But you’ve 
higher duties in life than waiting on a sick old woman’s fancies, you 
know, and the chief of these is to be a stay to your father.” 

“A sick old woman’s fancies! ” repeated Will half angrily, turning 
red and pale by turns. “Don’t talk like that, mother. I can’t bear 
to hear it. What higher duty can I have, I should like to know, 
than doing what little I can to atone for the shameful ” 

“Hush, Will!” ejaculated Annis, raising her hand. “How often 
must I warn you never to use such words, never to even think them! 
It’s not for a son to judge his father. I’ve thought over this more 
calmly than your hot young blood will let you do, and have formed 
my decision. Your place is by your father’s side.” 

“ By my mother’s first,” replied Will doggedly. “I’ve got to make 
good his sin against her. Yes, it’s all very well,” he continued, look- 
ing obstinately away, “but I’m not a child, mother, and I’ve 


110 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


thouglit over it calmly too. My first duty is here. Let father look 
after himself; he’s big enough.” 

Will planted his stool firmly on the ground, and sat himself 
down upon it with a vigorous bump that spoke his resolve nothing 
short of violence should stir him from the spot. 

Annis sighed again, and again the shade of disappointment 
crossed her face. But she had made up her mind to lead this willful, 
loving nature into the path he ought to tread. 

“Will, dear,” she said, “come to me.” 

He turned towards her with downcast eyes and half-averted 
face. 

“ Nearer, please dear. No, nearer, nearer still. Come lay your 
head upon my shoulder, and listen to me.” 

Will came up reluctantly. He knew from old experience that 
whenever his mother got him into this position, patting his rough 
cheek with her soft hand, and pouring gentle words into his ear 
that he felt were words of wisdom, he should be sure to yield. He 
did comply, however, though not with the best grace, and Annis 
went on : 

“Is it the part of a good son to gainsay his mother’s wishes? 
Your silence is enough. Would you like to alleviate my sufferings, or 
to increase their pain ? I need not ask. And if it has pleased Heaven 
so to order my lot that I must bear my bodily cross alone, will not 
my son, who loves his mother with all the warmth of a noble heart, 
do what he can to set her mind at ease ? Will, my own Will, think 
how near the last few months have drawn us together, and tell me, 
must I ask in vain ? ” 

He felt a thrill quiver through his strong frame at her grave and 
earnest words. He caught her hand and kissed it passionately; 
then presently a hot tear stole down upon the soft and gentle 
fingers resting on his cheek. 

“I am answered,” she resumed ; “but I should not like my boy to 
feel his duty a sacrifice. I would not ask you to hold out the hand 
of reconciliation with your father, were I not sure so doing is the 
first step towards restoring peace and happiness to our home. 

“Peace, perhaps,” sighed Will, “but happiness with you lying 
there! Ah, mother, never again.” 

“Peace and happiness, I repeat. Will,” returned Annis. “What 
is it keeps your father away now ? Partly, no doubt, a mistaken 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


Ill 


fancy I can’t forgive, but also, I’m very sure, tbe angry glance and 
lowering brow his son turns on him when you meet. Will, dear, 
this must n’t be. For my sake, forlove of me — who you ’ll admit 
am the greatest sufferer by what has taken place — try and conquer 
this bad feeling towards your father. Come, let it be a bargain be- 
tween us. At any rate you ’ll try ?” 

“Mother,” said the young man honestly, “I will.” 

“That’s my own boy,” she returned with a kiss. “Now, see here. 
Feeling sure in advance of your consent, I ’ve taken a step which 
will make yovir course easier. You know that, by way of atone- 
ment, I suppose, your father refuses me nothing. Whatever money 
will purchase I can have. To release you I’ve asked to be allowed a 
companion. A young lady, an orphan, who has lately lost her 
mother — poor thing! — and who needs a home, has been engaged, 
and will be here to-morrow. Then I shall claim your promise.” 

“I’ll keep my word, mother,” answered Will. “ We can but try it. 
But you must make me a promise in return.” 

“ What is it ? ” she asked. 

“That you won’t make yourself a sacrifice to over-strained ideas 
of duty,” he replied earnestly. “That if, after trying our utmost 
to restore family concord, we find my father still impracticable, 
you’ll fall back upon me, and become my care alone. I’ve a right to 
ask that, mother, and I don’t think you ought to refuse.” 

“We’ll see. Will,” answered Annis with a feeble smile. “At any 
rate my plan shall be tried first. I don’t expect there ’ll be any need 
to resort to yours.” 

With which diplomatic answer Will was forced to be content. 

“Father,” said Will, next morning to Edward Blythe, as the lat- 
ter was starting after breakfast on pretext of inspecting the labor- 
ers on a distant portion of the farm. “Father, I’d Jike a little talk 
with you when you’ve time.” 

The farmer positively started as his son addressed him. It was 
the first occasion on which they had exchanged a word for months. 
Without looking into Will’s face, he led the way into the apartment 
he occupied as a counting-room, closed the door, and waited what 
should follow, 

“Mother’s so nearly — so much better now,” began Will, gulping 
a difficult word that seemed to stick in his throat, “that I think, if 
you like, I might help you along with the farm-work a bit, as I used 


112 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


to do before — before — as I used, I mean. That is of course only if 
you like, you know. I don’t want to interfere with your arrange- 
ments, but if I can be any help, I should be glad, that’s all.” 

“Is this your own wish. Will, or — or your mother’s?” asked his 
father, still keeping his eyes steadily turned away. 

“Well, mine, I s’pose. No; dash it! I can’t tell a lie. It’s mother’s. 
At all events, ’t was she proposed it, and I promised I would— 
there !” 

“You promised you would,” repeated Edward Blythe, slowly. 
“ Promised you would what ? ” 

“Well, promised, I’d try and forget — no, I don’t mean that exactly 
— promised I’d hold out a — , no, I don’t mean that either. Dash it, 
father! Let’s be straightforward and open. Let bygones be by- 
gones. Shake hands and let’s all pull together again ! ” 

For the first time the father looked into his son’s working face. 
The genuine emotion he saw depicted in those honest young features 
touched the heart avarice had coated over with a film of lead. 
Their hands met in a strong and manly grasp. 

“Will,” said Edward Blythe, as the two presently passed out arm 
in arm together. “I’ve been a blind fool all my days, and only just 
begin to see. If ever a man ought to have been blessed, it should 
ha’ been he whom God gave such a wife and son.” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


• AN ALARM. 

Captain Oliver Blande was at fault. Abiah Riggs — the coadjutor, 
assistant aide-de-camp, accomplice, call him what you will — for 
whom he had asked his principal, had not yet made his appearance 
at The Towers, and without certain information Oliver thought it 
possible this worthy might be able to give, he could make no 
progress in the task he had undertaken. Stay ! something he could 
attempt, at any rate. He could see what was to be made of Jake. 

Watching his opportunity, Oliver strolled about the out-build- 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


113 


ings at the rear of the house in the course of the forenoon, and came 
upon the negro while polishing his master’s boots. It was a moot 
point whether the leather shone brighter, under the persuasive in- 
fluence of the brush, than Jake’s ebony visage glowed with satisfac- 
tion at the progress of his task. Both glistened like the sheen of a 
lady’s satin robe. Bob, the Diana, was perehed as usual upon his 
proteetor’s shoulder, and nodded gravely as Jake brushed away at 
his boot, and sang : 

“ You may go to de East, you may go to de West, 

You may go to Louisana, 

But ob all de gals I lub best, 

Defust is Susiana. 

Dat she am black, dat is is a fack, 

A fack dare’s no denyin’, 

But black dat am de color for wear, 

De only one worth buyin’." 

“Yah, yah, yah!” continued Jake to the Diana. “ Vhat you tink, 
friend Bob ? You gree vid me, don’t you ? Sensiful monk’ ! gie’s a 
kiss, my lilly dear. Now for de oder boot. Hulloa ! What am de 
matter now ? 

“ Chee, ehee, ehee ! ” chattered Bob, jumping from Jake’s shoulder 
on to his head, and clutching tight hold of his woolly pate. ” C hee, 
ehee, chee! ” 

“ Hoi’ on, you eonscrumption nigga, sar ! Leave go de colored 
gemman’s haar, dis moment. You dishderange him toilet shameful. 
Leave go, I say.” 

But Bob paid no attention to Jake’s remonstrance. He elung 
tighter and chattered more loudl^^ ^nd defiantly than before. The 
negro dislodged him from his position with some dilfieultj' and at 
the expense of a handful of wool. 

“ ’T is only Missa Captum, you lilly fool! ’’exclaimed Jake, pitch- 
ing Bob head over heels towards the kitchen. “Him not take no 
notice of insnieophant little black debble like you. Him prefer to 
redress him bobservashums to handsome gemman wid de fine ehest- 
nut complexshum, name ob Jake. Don’t you, Captum ? ” 

Jake, be it said, parenthetically, was as sable in color as the best 
Wallsend. 

Caught by the merry twinkle in the negro’s eye, Oliver laughed as 
he slipped a bit of silver into Jake’s ready palm. 

“It was my fault the little brute set up his baek, I suppose,” he 


114 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


replied. ‘‘There’s some recompense for the loss of your locks, my 
lad. Master at home, do 3"ou know, Jake? I don’t see him any- 
where about the house.” 

“Massa ’m gone to de town, Captum,” returned Jake with a 
scrape and a kick out behind to typify thanks. “Don’t tink him 
back agin afore the fust dinner-bell.” 

“Oh, indeed,” observed Oliver, carelessly, kicking up a stone out of 
the gravel-path. “Business taken him to Lynn now, do you 
think, or pleasiire ? ” 

Jake shot a sly glance at Oliver out of the corners of his large 
dark eyes as he brushed vigorously away at the boot, and his face put 
on an expression of much stolidity. “Can’t Captum,” he 

replied, “ ’cos I did n’t ask. Should n’t tink ’t was business, an’ 
p’raps it ain’t pleasure.” 

It was Oliver’s turn now to send a sharp look at Jake, but the 
cross-examining eye of an Old Bailey barrister would have gleaned 
little from those impenetrable features. To add to Oliver’s discom- 
fiture, the negro re-commenced his song: 

** You may go to de East, you may go to de West, 

You may go to Eouisana, 

3ut ob all de gals 

Here Oliver struck in rather impatiently with “ Stop that yowl- 
ing, my good fellow. You ’ve been a longtime in Captain Lee’s ser- 
vice, have n’t you ? ” 

“ All de days oh my life, Captum. But I tought you berry fond 
ob music. Did n’t I see you hangin’ ober Missy Guen t’oder night 
at de pianny when she sing ‘ Ober de sea ? ’ You didn’t ax her to 
stop that yowling, Captum. Yah, yah, 3^ah! ” 

“Why, confound your impudence, you stick of black sealing-wax, 
you never mean to compare your horrible discords with those heav- 
enly tones,” roared Oliver, exasperated in spite of himself. 

“Why not, Captum ? ” retorted Jake. “ Music am music, whedder 
it come from a black troat or a white. Dere ain’t no color in de 
notes.” 

Struck with the shrewd pathos of the remark, Oliver moderated 
his tone. It was not his interest to quarrel with Jake. 

“Well, my lad, perhaps you are right. We won’t discuss the point 
just now. You wereborn on Captain Lee’s estate, I suppose? ” 

“ On de ’state ob Colonel Wallis, Missy Lee’s fader. Missy fall iq 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


115 


lub wid CaptumLee, run away an’ marry um. Colonel berry pas- 
sionate gemman. Fall in drefful rage, catch de whatd’yecallum- 
plexy an’ go to chokey. ’State an’ all de property come to Missy 
fust, den to Captum her husband. Dat’s how I get into mymassa’s 
sarvice, Missa Captum Blande.” 

“Oh, that was the way, was it?” cried Oliver, much interested. 
“A runaway match, eh! Then of course there was no settlement. 

“Nebber seed de gemman,” answered Jake with a shake of the 
head. “Did n’t lib in our part ob de island.” 

“No, no, you misunderstand. There was no legal settlement, I 
mean; no deed drawn up by a lawyer, securing your mistress’s 
property to herself ; was there ? ” 

“ Dere was n’t not no lawyer in de business at all,” retorted Jake, 
drawing himself up with an air of offended dignity. “My missy ran 
away wid Captum Lee, not wid a common mean ’torney. She 
wouldn’t hab stooped to de trash.” 

“I suppose not,” laughed Oliver. “But look here, Jake, my lad; 
what was Colonel Wallis’s objection to the Captain. Did n’t he 
think it an advantageous match ? ” 

“Me only a piccanniny at de time, Captum, so can’t say ’zactly 
but I allays heard de Colonel nebber meant to let missy marry at 
all, so long him lib.” 

“ What was his reason ? ” 

“Say him spent berry much mone3^ on her edication, an’ him mean 
missy look after him comforts till him die.” 

“Selfish old rascal! And she, falling in love, ran away and left 
him, eh? Well, served him right. You ’re sure that was his only 
reason for objecting to the match. 

“Daf all I ebber heard, Captum,” answered Jake, with a sly leer 
as he applied himself again to his master’s boot. 

Oliver applied the negro with several other questions upon the 
subject of the Lee family, but found Jake either ignorant or impen- 
etrable. 

“You need n’t mention my having asked you any questions, my 
lad,” he said, carelessly, at last. I’ve no particular reason but curi- 
osity. Here's a trifle more to help you forget.” 

“Massa Captum, yer most obedient sarvint to kimmand!” re- 
plied Jake, with his inimitable bow and scrape. 

Oliver lighted a fresh cigar and strolled leisurely away. Jake 


116 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


waited till he had turned the corner of the shrubbery’ then laid down 
his boot and brush, and indulged in an intense chuckle of suppressed 
delight. 

‘‘Yah, yah, yah! Missa Captum!” he wispered finally, wiping his 
eyes, “you don’t get much out of dis gemman to help your lub- 
making to pretty Missy Guen.” 

Jake, you see, had come to the same conclusion with regard to the 
motive for Oliver’s cross-examination as had been previously arrived 
at by Old Josh. 

“Interesting domestic details, certainly,” sneered Oliver, as he 
walked along, “but I don’t see that they help much in clearing up 
the mystery. What was Ralph Lee about, from the time he left 
England in 1812, a common sailor, after doing we know what, until 
he turns up again in Jamaica — date unknown, but probably three to 
five years later — the master of a ship and runs away with this choleric 
colonel’s daughter? That’s the point to be solved next. 

This problem occupied Oliver’s mind the rest of the afternoon. It 
troubled him so much that he missed the first gong for dinner, and 
had to scramble through his toilet at the sound of the second with 
a rapidity which annoyed his dandyism sorely. He came down to 
the meal in a nearer approach to an ill-temper than had happened 
since his stay at The Towers. Ralph Lee, on the other hand, was 
irate at having had to wait some five minutes for his guest. There 
was a cloud upon the brow of either men when dinner began, which 
seemed to betoken storm. 

Conversation during dinner flagged. The host was taciturn and 
reserved ; spoke only in monosyllables when he spoke at all ; found 
fault with the cookery, the viands, the wine, and the dessert; snubbed 
his wife and daughter, and replied to Oliver’s efforts at small talk 
with unmistakable sneers. The young man bit his lip with vexation 

'Ver one or two of these sallies, and was only restrained from an 
angry rejoinder by Guenever’s appealing look. 

,.heii Lhe ladies rose to leave the room, Guenever dropped her 
handkerchief close by the door. Oliver of course stooped to recover 
it. Ashe handed it to her with a bow, she whispered, hastily: 
“ Papa’s vexed about something. Pray keep your temper, for my 
sake.” 

“Depend upon my prudence,” he returned, “I’ll join you soon.” 

It is a curious state of mind when you sit opposite a man you 


ALBANY STARK^S REVBNGB, 


117 


know tHe possessor of a secret you ardently desire to learn, and 
which it is even more his interest to keep close hid than it is yours to 
discover. Oliver was becoming greatly excited in the difficult task 
he had been set by Albany Stark, for some mysterious reason, to 
perform. As, bit by bit, various disjointed items of Ralph Lee’s for- 
mer life came to view, they were pieced together by this patient and 
dexterous mental anatomist into an harmonious whole, and the 
moody host would have been startled had he entertained the faintest 
suspicion of how much was already known to his smiling and a| 
parently careless guest. 

Beware, you who have anything yoii would not like made public, 
of the gay and jovial companion, whose only object in life seems en- 
joyment and pleasure, his only aim to kill the lagging hours as 
agreeably as he can. It is a vast mistake to suppose the social con- 
spirator always concealed beneath a cloak pulled up to his ears, 
ostentatiously hiding his dark lantern and box of matches under its 
folds. Experience tells a different story. The artful man uses artful 
means, less liable to suspicion. Guard against the blow you dread 
from the quarter whence it seems least likely to fall, and you will 
have the better chance of parrying it in time. 

Whatever the cause of Ralph Lee’s bad humor that afternoon, it 
was certainly not occasioned by any doubt of his volatile guest. 
Still, for precaution’s sake, Oliver wisely abstained from awakening 
the least mistrust. He would otherwise have brought conversation 
round to Jamaica, and have watched the effect of that topic upon 
his entertainer’s face. But he was too prudent. 

By the exertion of that charm of manner and delicate deference 
to superior wisdom without appearing to defer, which no man 
versed in social arts was better able than himself to display, Blande 
succeeded in restoring at least the semblance of equinimity to 
Ralph Lee’s mind. The attraction felt towards him by the sailor 
from the first hour they met, and which had greatly increased in 
power during Oliver’s stay at The Towers, again manifested its 
strength. When they went to the drawing-room half an hour later 
the cloud had completely vanished from Ralph Lee’s brow, and the 
remainder of the evening passed agreeably. 

“Have I earned your gratitude?” whispered Oliver to Guenever 
Lee, as they were lighting their candles to retire. 

An eloquent look from her brilliant eyes sent the blood dancing 


118 


ALBANY STABK^S BBVBNGB. 


with a thrill through his veins that almost made him stagger with 
ecstasy as she passed away. 

‘‘A splendid creature! soliloquized Oliver, as he set the candle 
upon his dressing-table and strode excitedly up and down the room. 

A girl of a thousand! and if I’m not mistaken, with a very decided 
liking for me. My old luck ! I wonder ” 

Here he cast a cautious glance around, glided on tiptoe to the 
door and turned the key. 

I wonder whether I should have much difficulty in persuading 
her to favor me with a few months of her society. I could n’t stand 
more, I believe. Venus personified could never hold me captive 
long.” 

He drew a chair before the fire, lit a cigar, and went on smoking 
and looking into the blaze. 

“How would it be if we were to turn jest into earnest, make love 
seriously, marry, and go upon the square? Hem! the idea’s worth 
consideration. A pretty girl, lots of tin, the father prepossessed in 
my favor. I don’t know, my friend, but what you might do worse. 
But Stark! Ay, there’s the rub. What would he say? Would he 
consent to set me free? Not if I could pay him down my weight in 
gold.” 

He ceased. A hard, savage look stole over his face, and a dull, 
angry light began to be visible in his eye. His hands contracted in- 
voluntarily to a vehement clutch. 

“I think I hear his harsh voice, were I to ask for liberty, say at 
the price of half my future wife’s fortune. What would he answer ? 
‘No,’ he’d roar, ‘a thousand times no? Once mine, always mine, 
till death or the devil claims his prey. Mine to the last hour of your 
life, mine by every tie that couples a slave to his master. Mine to 
work with, to use, to lay by, as I please. Mine to fling a bone to as 
reward, if you serve me well ; mine to transport, or drown, or poison 
or hang, if you thwart me ! Mine once, mine ever ! ’ ” 

“And by heaven,” continued Oliver, wiping the drops from his 
brow at the ghastly features he had conjured up; “by heaven he’d 
do it, too ! There are times when I almost think that man is Satan 
in person, let loose to ravage the earth and torment mankind.” 

He re-lighted his cigar, which had gone out in his excitement, and 
fell to watching the blue rings that curled above his head. 

“For the present ’t will be best to let the thing slide, as the 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


119 


Yankees say. I^m not strong enough to fight Stark yet, that’s 
certain, if I ever should be. My safest game is caution, and to find 
out what is to be discovered about Captain Ralph Lee.’^ 

Oliver sank into silent reverie, smoking out his cigar until it 
burnt his fingers. Then casting the remnant into the fire with an 
oath, he jumped up and began to make some curious preparations. 
Drawing off his boots, he put on a pair of thick worsted socks over 
his ordinar^^ hose. In these he moved about as noiselessly as a cat. 
Next he went to the door, and cautiously — most cautiously — shot 
back the bolt, leaving the door ajar. This was done so gently that 
not the faintest sound was heard. His next proceeding was to tie 
a small black half-mask — such as is commonly used at carnival time 
abroad — carefully before his face. Holes were cut in the vizor 
through which he could see, and the crape fall descended sufficiently 
low to hide his thick mustache without impeding his breath. Then 
he extinguished his candle, placing it with lucifers upon the mantel. 
Furnishing himself next with a small lantern, closed by a slide, he 
stepped rapidly outside his door, aud stood upon the landing. 

He leant over the balusters, and listened . All was quiet as death , 
so still, so hushed, that the ticking of the great hall clock came up 
the aperture, and smote upon his ears with painful clearness. Other 
sound there was none throughout the house save the light drawing 
of his hushed breath as he strained his sense of hearing toitsacutest 
pitch. All was safe, and he began to descend. 

Step by vStep, gently and noiselessly, shadowy as a ghost, his 
dark form glided gradually down, down, pausing often several min“ 
utes when it trod upon a creaking stair, then cautiously resuming 
its march until the hall was gained. Here Oliver left the dining- 
room upon his right hand, and passed on with secure and certain 
step to the library at the end of the passage, found the door, turned 
the handle, and went in. 

“So far good! ” he whispered. “Now to secure the means of re- 
treat in case of discovery.’* 

Placing his lantern upon the seaman’s chest — the object of so 
many previous speculations, and, to say truth, of his present noc- 
turnal visit — he advanced to the large shutter closing one of the 
windows, and began to let down the bar. The spring was stiff. 
Pressing it impatiently, the bar slipped inadvertently from his grasj^, 
and clanged loudly through the silence of the night. 


120 


ALBANY STARK'S REVBNGB. 


An execration burst from his lips, as he rushed to the door, and 
eagerly stretched forth his head to listen. Still silence. No sound 
beyond the regular ticking of the great clock* no motion save the 
hurried gasping of his heaving breast. 

All safe, I think!” he muttered, returning to the room. “Still, 
nothing like making sure.” 

With the words he gently turned the key in the door, and 
for greater security shot the small bolt at the side. Going back to 
the chest, he set his lantern by his side upon the floor, and began to 
try the lock. 

Key after key upon a large bunch he drew from his pocket was 
essayed and cast aside as useless. Oliver gnashed his teeth with 
vexation as each fresh attempt proved fruitless, and dashed the bunch 
savagely upon the ground in hasty passion as he found not one key 
would open the chest. Several moved the bolts, shot them back in- 
deed, but some hidden obstacle — some secret spring probably, the 
trick of which he did not know — had to be overcome before the lid 
could be raised. 

“What’s to be done ?” he muttered. “I dare n’t break it open, 
for discovery would be sure to follow. If then, after all, the chest 
contains nothing of importance, good-bye to all my chances here. 
’T is a bitter vexation ! I’ve learnt something though. Theobstacle’s 
not in the lock ; Stark’s man must find the spring.” 

Rising from his knees, he took up his lantern, and made for the 
door. Before he reached it, a sound came to his ears that rooted 
him to the spot with terror, and blanched his features to an ashy 
hue. 

The heavy tramp of footsteps came hurriedly down the stairs ! 

“ Discovered I ” whispered Oliver in sickening alarm. “My God! 
How shall I escape ? ” 

He gazed distractedly around. No means of ready exit unob- 
served presented itself. The searcher was already thundering at the 
door. The stern accents of Ralph Lee demanded in angry tones who 
was within. The sound of his voice almost bereft Oliver of the self- 
possession he had hitherto maintained. He ran hither and thither, 
shaking, quaking, quivering, like a conscience-stricken criminal at the 
point of death. Whither should he fly ? 

“ Who’s there, for the last time ? ” roared Ralph Lee, without. “If 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


121 


you don’t answer, I break in the door. Who is it ? Once — twice — 
thrice! ” 

Crash went the strong and stalwart frame of the sturdy sailor 
against the library door, bursting it in as a rider in the circus dashes 
through the frame of tissue paper held above his head — bursting it 
in so vehemently, so suddenly, that he fell inwards among the frag- 
ments of the shattered panels and rolled over at Oliver’s feet. 

In his desperation, hardly knowing what he did, the young man 
dashed at the window, threw it open, and darted out into the 
grounds at the rear of the house. Active as a cat, Ralph Lee was 
on his feet in an instant, and rushed after the runaway, calling out 
to him to stap. No heed being paid to the injunction, the sailor 
rapidly cocked a pistol and fired at a venture; then plunged into the 
bushes in search of the fugitive. 


CHAPTER XIX. 

guenever’s doubts. 

‘‘A stern chase is a long chase,” runs a well-known nautical pro- 
verb. In Ralph Lee’s case the pursuit of the supposed burglar 
proved an unavailing chase into the bargain. He returned to the 
house without having been able to overtake his man. 

“I’d give a thousand pounds to have caught that rascal I ” he ex- 
claimed, as he entered the library window, and found Jake with two 
of the Gorgons, half-dressed, staring in stupefied amazement at the 
shattered door. 

“ Where’s Blande ?” he continued. “Here, you Jake, run up and 
call the Captain.” 

“Iss, massa,” responded the black, starting off. 

“No, stop,” called out his master. “Nevermind; I’ll go myself. 
One of you give me a light.” 

Three steps at a time, Ralph strode up the staircase, and ham- 
mered with iron fist upon Oliver’s door. 

“Here! Hulloa! Blande, I say, rouse up! Some scoundrel has 


122 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


broken into the house. Rouse up, and come and search the grounds. 
Look alive, and we’ll catch him yet.” 

Sounds of a man suddenly aroused from heavy sleep were heard 
within the room. Somebody yawned, then jumped out of bed. The 
door opened, and Captain Oliver Blande, in the long white robe 
wherein male kind in general encases itself upon retiring to rest, 
stood before his host. 

‘‘ What’s the matter? ” he yawned, blinking sleepily as he shielded 
his eyes from the light. 

‘‘Matter enough!” returned his host. “Robbery, burglary, and 
murder for aught I know. Some rascal has got in at the library 
window to rob the place. Luckily I heard the villain, and sent a 
bullet after him, but I’m afraid he’s got clear off. Slip on your 
clothes and help me to search. Make haste! ” 

“I’m at your service in a moment, my dear friend,” returned 
Oliver eagerly. “What a daring piece of villainy ! Have you looked 
after the ladies ? ” 

“ They are all right. My wife is, at any rate, and I’ll soon see 
about Guen. Come down to the library when you are dressed.” 

Off started Ralph Lee to see to his daughter’s safety. Getting 
no answer to his summons at her door, he went into the apartment 
and found it empty, for Guenever, aroused by the commotion in the 
house, had hurried to her mother’s room to learn the cause. Burst- 
ing in here with the tidings of Guen’s disappearance, Ralph found 
the women clinging together in alarm. A few hasty words removed 
their fears, and he ran down again to the seene of his first adven- 
ture. 

In a few moments he was joined by Oliver, completely dressed. 

“It’s most unaccountable!” exclaimed Ralph, shaking his head. 
“I can’t find any mischief done. Nothing seems wrong, nothing 
missing, 3^et there certainly was a fellow here, for I saw him myself. 

“ What was the rascal like ? ” asked his guest. 

“ That’s more than I can say. The room was as black as pitch, 
you know. All I did see after I broke in the door was a dark figure, 
that rushed to the window and jumped out before I could lay hold 
of him. As far as I could make out, he was about your height and 
build. — Stay ! what’s this ? ” 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE, 


123 


He pounced upon the lantern still standing beside the chest and 
drew back the slide. 

“There!” he exclaimed. “That’s all the clue. Come along and 
search the grounds. Here, take this pistol. Nab the scamp alive if 
you can, but shoot him rather than let him escape.” 

. Knowing what you and I know, it will not be thought strange 
that the second search for the disturber proved no more effectual 
than the first. After beating the bushes for half an hour in the cold 
and wind, without dislodging anything more dangerous than a bat 
or two and an astonished owl — which expressed disgusted indigna- 
tion by a loud “ to-whoo I ”— the two returned to the house, and 
soon after again retired to rest. 

“A narrow squeak that!” ejaculated Oliver, when he was once 
more safely seated before his bed-room fire. “I must have another 
cigar to compose my nerves before I can get to sleep.” 

Mrs. Lee and her daughter Guenever sat at work next forenoon 
in their own especial morning room. It was at the back of the 
house, on the second floor, in a line with the chief sleeping apart- 
m iits of the family. Separating this chamber from the bed-room 
of Ralph Lee and his wife was a small slip — formerly a dressing- 
ro )m — now fitted up by Mrs. Lee as an oratory. It was plainly 
but solidly furnished. Before the oriel window stood an altar, upon 
which was placed a slanting crucifix bearing the figure of the dying 
Redeemer of mankind. Carved in ivory with all the skill commonly 
exerted by Catholic artists in the emblem of their faith, this effigy 
was especially remarkable for the intense and life-like expression de- 
picted on the Savior’s face. Through the drops starting forth upon 
the corrugated brow as the moment of dissolution approached, 
through the agony of the departing soul about to leave its house of 
flesh, you saw the patient beauty of the Divine spirit rejoicing at 
the aecomplishment of its tremendous task, thankful that the hour 
was at hand when immortality was henceforth to be its part for- 
ever. The crucifix was an old family relic, said to have been blessed 
by the Pope in person, and highly prized by its possessor. 

Before the altar was a handsome fall-stool, at which Clara Lee 
— a devoted Catholic— passed hours daily upon her knees. 

Mrs. Lee, who, in addition to being of a very shy and reserved 


124 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


disposition, was also a great invalid, had breakfasted that morning 
in her own room. Strong, lively Guenever, who took most of the 
cares of housekeeping off her mother’s hands, had presided at the 
meal below stairs, and was detailing what had been said about the 
startling occurrence of the past night. 

“And your papa actually doesn’t mean to take any measures of 
prevention, doesn’t even mean to send for the police?’’ exclaimed 
Mrs. Lee, aghast. “My dear, you can’t have understood him cor- 
rectly.’’ 

“Indeed I did, dear. Papa’s not the man to ask any one’s help 
when he can protect himself. I thought you knew him better. Why, 
he laughed when I proposed it till I thought he’d have fallen off his 
chair; then said he should only want a carpenter, to mend the 
door.’’ 

“How rash!” moaned Mrs. Lee. “How dreadfully, inconceive- 
ably rash I Why will he not take this warning ? Depend upon it, 
my dear,” she added, nervously, “we shall all be murdered some 
night in our beds. I’m sure we shall! ” 

“Not if papa can help it, dear, be sure,” returned Guenever, con- 
solingly. “He’s gone out now with Captain Blande to see if he can 
hear of any ill-looking fellows having been seen lurking about of 
late, and so come upon the traces of the robbers that way. But 
Captain Blande doesn’t think it likely. He says these sort of things 
are all planned and settled beforehand, months sometimes, and that 
thieves rarely attack a house without having some confederate 
inside to admit them. Only think. How artful ! ” 

“ Dreadful indeed I ” shuddered poor Mrs. Lee, looking scared. “ He 
doesn’t think that was the case here, I hope ? ” 

Guen laughed merrily. “No, dear, indeed. How should there 
be? The women servants are staunch, I’m sure, and too great 
cowards into the bargain. You wouldn’t think of suspecting 
Jake?” 

A look of relief came over Mrs. Lee’s face, as she replied 
promptly, “My dear, I’d almost as soon think of suspecting my 
own brother. If there is truth and honesty in the world, it’s in 
Jake. Oh, my child, I heartily wish we had never left the island. 

“So do I, dear, sometimes, and papa, too, I fancy, unless I’m much 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


125 


mistaken. However, here we are, and the wisest plan is to make 
the best of it.” 

‘‘So the captain thinks the robbery must have been arranged be- 
forehand, does he? ” asked Mrs. Lee, reverting to the subject upper- 
most in her mind. “ Is anything missing then ? ” 

‘‘Not an article, so far as we can discover,” returned Guen, 
thoughtfully. ‘‘And that’s just the mysterious part of the busi- 
ness. Why should thieves break into a house, if not to steal ? ” 

” Perhaps they hadn’t time. You know it was I who first heard a 
noise on the stairs and woke your papa. He didn’t believe me at 
first, but said it was only one of my fancies, and bade me go to sleep 
again. Then came the other noise down below, and that started 
him up directly.” 

Guenever made no immediate remark. Her acute mind was bus- 
ily pondering on what her mother had just said, and coupling it with 
a suspicion — vague and hardly formed as yet — which every moment 
acquired more definite shape. 

‘‘ What are you thinking about, my child? ” asked her mother, the 
quick, nervous temperament taking sudden alarm. 

‘‘Nothing, dear,” answered Guenever with a faint smile. “Where 
did you say you first heard the noise — on the stairs? ” 

“Yes; you know how ill I sleep, and how acute my hearing is. 
Lying awake, as I so often do, my attention was caught by a creak- 
ing stealthy sound, exactly as if some one were passing very slowly 
and cautiously down the stairs. Sometimes it stopped — oh! for 
minutes — then went on again, and by degrees died away. I was so 
much frightened that I awoke your papa.” 

“ Strange ! ” muttered Guenever. “ Could it be possible ? Pooh ! 
the idea’s absurd. Did the noise come from upstairs, mamma, or 
did it seem to begin from this floor, where we all sleep ? Could you 
distinguish ? ” 

‘‘Well, my dear, I can hardly say distinctly, for you se^ I was so 
terribly frightened, but my impression is that it began here.” 

“ And if anyone had come from the floor above, where the servants 
sleep, you must have heard it, because you know the carpet was 
taken up yesterday, and that lazy Rachael forgot to lay it down.” 

“Was it indeed, my dear? I knew nothing of that,” returned 
Mrs. Lee, placidly. 


126 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


Of course not. How should she? Guenever was the presiding 
spirit of the household ; Guenever gave all orders, and kept all keys. 
Mrs. Lee was only too happy to turn over these troublesome duties 
to her energetic child. 

The girl’s face grew eager and flushed. A sharpened expression — 
as of physical pain — dawned into her eye, and she sat quite silent. 
Every now and then her fingers twitched, as she drummed them im- 
patiently upon the table. These signs of irritation did not escape 
Mrs. Lee’s ever-nervous eye. She drew her chair beside that of her 
daughter, and laid her hand gently upon the restless fingers. She 
started with alarm. 

“ My child ! ” she cried. “ How hot your handis ; and your cheeks, 
your neck! There is some trouble on your mind you are keeping 
from me. Trust your mother, my dear. Come, tell me what it is.” 

“Oh, nothing; a mere fancy I ” returned Guen, impatiently. “ Some- 
thing so stupid, so ridiculous, so utterly absurd, I can’t think how 
I let it worry me for a moment. It must have been a dream — a 
childish, silly dream ! ” 

She burst into a hard, forced laugh.. 

But Mrs. Lee’s anxiety was not so easily appeased. 

“Seerets from me, my child! ” she said with a slightly reproachful 
accent. “Is this kind? Do I keep anything from you? Tell me, 
darling, tell your mother; let us talk over what is vexing you to- 
gether, and if really a fancy, we’ll think of it no more. Come, dear; 
tell me.” 

She laid her arm around her daughter’s neck, and pressed a kiss 
upon her glowing cheek. The pleading voice of one she loved never 
fell upon Guenever’s ear in vain. She turned to her mother, and 
warmly returned her caress. 

“Well, dear. I’ll tell you all,” she answered, “though mind, Ivshall 
expect to be laughed at, and deserve it too. The idea that flashed 
into my mind while you were speaking was so preposterous that I 
feel half ashamed to mention it, even to you. Don’t seold me too 
much for being such a goose, will you ? ” 

“Seold you, my dear!” returned her mother, with a smile. 
“Go on.” 

“It’s about last night. After I was startled from sleep by the 
noise of papa breaking in the library door, I went to the window. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


127 


Next moment I heard a shot, and papa ran out into the grounds. 
Quite ignorant of what had happened, I watched. Hardly a minute 
had passed before I saw, close before my eyes, outside, the glass 
I saw — oh Heaven; I can’t tell you. It’s too horrible. No, no; it 
never could have been a dream ! .” 

She shuddered visibly. Mrs. Lee soothed her with a few loving 
words, and patiently waited until she was sufficiently recovered to 
proceed. 

*‘What was it you saw, my child?” asked her mother at last. 
“Tell me. It’s better you should speak out, having said so much.” 

“I saw a face ! ” burst out Guenever. “Yet not a face — a mask, a 
black, horrid, shapeless mask! Eyes that seemed to shoot fire 
gleamed upon me through the pane; a voice — the tones of which I 
thought familiar — uttered an awful curse. While I looked it disap- 
peared. Dreadfully frightened as I was, I hastened to light my lamp 
and ran with it to the window. Nothing was to be seen. Sum- 
moning all my courage, I threw up the sash, and gazed out. What 
do you think I saw ? ” 

Mrs. Lee shook her head in silent horror. 

“I saw a figure, climbing alongthe trellis that runs all over theback 
of the house, and entering the second window from mine. After it 
had disappeared, the hideous mask looked out again from that same 
room. Seeing me, it vanished, and the window was instantly closed. 
Then fear overpowered me and I ran to you.” 

Mrs. Lee sat utterly aghast. The story was so totally different 
from any she had expected to hear that she was literally deprived of 
speech. Guenever resumed: 

“Recalling the whole scene now, I am certain what I saw was 
real. Mamma, whose room is that into which the figure went?” 

“The second window from yours,” repeated Mrs. Lee, slowly. 
“Why, that’s Captain Blande’s!” 

“Exactly; Captain Blande’s. What should a stranger — a thief, 
for I think there can be no doubt this was how, whoever broke in, es- 
caped — what should a thief do in Captain Blande’s room? How is 
it the intruder was not discovered ? Or, most horrible supposition of 
any, was the house never broken into by an outside thief at all ? ” 

The excited girl poured forth these rapid questions with so much 
vehemence and energy as entirely to paralyze Mrs. Lee. She gazed 


128 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


at her daughter with so evident an incompetence to follow the 
course of her more rapid intellect as to be almost pitiable. Guenever 
checked herself the moment she saw this, and gave her mother time 
to think. 

“But — but — my dear,” gasped Mrs. Lee, “if it wasn’t an outside 
thief (as you oddly call the horrid creature), who could it have 
been? There was a man, for your father saw him. You say you 
saw a figure with a mask enter Captain Blande’s room. Were there 
two men? I don’t understand.” 

“No, no; what I suppose is this. The house was never broken 
into at all. Aperson — perhaps a thief; perhaps, perhaps some one else 
— went down stairs very softly after we were all asleep. Thence the 
sounds you heard first. The person opened the library shutters 
from the inside, and in so doing let fall the bar. That was the 
second noise. Papa ran down and fired. The person climbed up the 
trellis, intending to reach Captain Blande’s window, but by mistake 
in the darkness came to mine. The question is, who that person 
was. Was it Captain Blande ? ’ ’ 

The question seemed so perfectly absurd that even timid Mrs. Lee, 
burst into a hearty laugh. But Guenever never stirred a muscle of 
her stern and pallid face. The recapitulation of her thoughts in 
words had only endowed them with added probability to her mind. 
She looked steadily into her mother’s eyes. 

“I knew you’d ridicule it,” she said quietly, “but the idea won’t 
leave me that I’m right. What may have been his object of course 
I’ve no notion, but I shall believe the captain was the midnight vis- 
itor to the library until I’m convinced to the contrary.” 

“My dear, my dear,” expostulated Mrs. Lee, in pitying tones, 
“you shouldn’t really say such things without a little proof. For 
goodness’ sake, let nobody hear such fancies but me. Come, come; 
I see what it is. You’ve been upset, unnerved, shaken by this horrid 
business, and want a little rest. Lie down, dear, and try to sleep. 
Why, you’re positively more of an invalid than I am ! ” 

“Stay ! ” exclaimed Guen, suddenly, “ one part of my story’s easily 
proved. Come here.” 

She pushed the altar from the oriel window, and the two leant 
out together. 

“Look,” said Guenever, “what’s that, and that, and that? 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


129 


Marks where the trellis has been snapped by a heavy foot; branches 
broken, leaves crushed where somebody has passed, Look where 
the signs begin. Close by* the library window, straight up to mine, 
then along to Captain Blande’s ! Mamma, mamma, I fear I’m right 
after all. Hush ! come in quick ! Look there ! ” 

She drew her mother rapidly back, and closed the sash ; then placed 
her behind the curtain, whence they could look out without being 
seen. 

Guen’s quick eye had noticed a tall, bony personage clad in a 
sailor’s dress, sauntering along the road at the back of the grounds. 
He looked up at the house, then took out a short, black pipe, filled 
it, and began to smoke, marching up and down. He had hardly 
waited two minutes before Oliver Blande passed leisurely along the 
road. The sailor accosted him, and after the exchange of a few 
words, during which Oliver surveyed every window, the two walked 
away together. 

Following so closely upon the suspicions just expressed by Guen- 
ever, the incident struck Mrs. Lee with a chill of mortal fear. She 
turned to her daughter with a face of terrible alarm. 


CHAPTER XX. 

AN UNLUCKY EXPERIMENT. 

The efl^ct of Will Blythe’s reconciliation with his father was not 
long in making itself felt. One of its first-fruits was that thorough 
explanation between the two men, the necessity for which ought 
never to have arisen. But the straightforwardness natural to both 
— obscured for a time in the son by resentment for his mother’s in- 
jury and Edward’s apparently causeless flight, still to some extent 
clouded over in the father by the consciousness of wrong and un- 
availing regret for the terrible punishment that had fallen upon an 
innocent head — at once resumed its sway, so soon as a complete un- 
derstanding was restored. 


130 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


Bitter were the lamentations with which Edward Blythe bewailed 
his having been led away hj the seductive eloquence of the Peculiar 
Baptist class-leader; heavy the curses he heaped upon that hypro- 
critical gentleman’s head, furious the denunciations with which he 
swore to have abundant vengeance if ever the refugee fell into his 
hands. He seemed to feel a species of relief, and in a great measure 
to lose sight of his own wrong-doing, in stigmatising the greater 
criminality of the man by whom he had been betrayed. 

Will meanwhile listened with a grave and serious face — a brow 
that grew heavier and more charged with gloom— as he gradually 
picked out the facts that had led to the family disaster. When Ed- 
ward ceased objuration, his son spoke, quietly and respectfully, yet 
with a firmness that showed he fully understood the real position of 
^the case. 

' ' ‘‘After all, father, it’s only fair to put the saddle on the right 
horse. Wylie, was a scamp ; that’s clear. Don’t fancy I want to 
defend him for a moment. But if his proposal had n’t been agreed 
to, all this mischief would n’t have happened. However, ’t is no use 
going into all that now. What must be done, no doubt you see as 
well as I do, but the proposal ought to come from you.” 

Edward darted ^glance of apprehension at his son, and a pain- 
ful fear rose up in his mind. He began to doubt whether he had done 
wisely to confide in Will. 

“Yes, yes,” he stammered, hurriedly ; “of course I know, but 1 
should like to hear your opinion firrt, just to — to see what — 
whether — if— if it agrees with mine.” 

“It must, father!” returned Will, steadily, looking him fully in 
the face. “ Because it’s the only course open to an honorable man. 
Two are the sufferers by what has taken place — poor mother and 
Uncle Ralph — one in person, the other in purse. The misfortune to 
mother we can’t retrieve; God only could do that ; it must be our 
part to make her life as happy as we can. But the wrong to Uncle 
Ralph can be made good. I ’m sure I only speak your mind when I 
say he must not lose one penny of the trust-money he placed in your 
hands.” 

“Good heavens, boy I ” broke in his father, violently. “To hear 
you talk^ one ’uld think ye mad. This is n’t a naatter of a shilling 


ALBANY STARKS REVENGE, 


131 


or two. I should have to pay Ralph no less a sum than ten thous- 
and pound ! ” 

“’Tisn’t the money that’s at stake, father,” was the calm reply; 
“’t is the principle and our good name. You ’ll allow uncle’s no 
business to lose by any fault of ours.” 

” Lad, you talk like a child or a fool ! ” retorted Edward testily. 
“If I was to sell Paston and every blade of com upon the place to- 
morrow, ’t would n’t bring half the money.” 

“May be, father; but that don’t make our obligationto do what’s 
honest any the less. Besides, selling the property would just de- 
prive us of all chance of ever settling the debt. Keep the farm, say I, 
and pay uncle off by degrees.” 

“That’s just clear madness, boy,” returned Edward, in a milder 
tone. “Even if Ralph ’uld agree ’t would be a hopeless task. 
Besides your uncle’s rich, and can afford the loss. Large as ’t is, ’t 
won’t send him on the parish.” 

“Father,” said Will, earnestly, “that’s not the point. Uncle 
placed his money in your hands with certain instructions thinking it 
would be safe. Those instructions were n’t carried out, and it was 
lost. Whatever his ability to afford the loss, we ’re none the less 
bound in honor to make it good. ’T is for him to say whether he ’ll 
accept the offer— not for us to hold back from making it.” 

“But I can’t, lad, I tell ye! I durst n’t I” cried Edward, mopping 
away with his handkerchief the drops that started to his brow at 
the mere thought of facing Ralph on such an errand. “As a boy, he 
were always hard to deal with ; now, I ’m told he ’s next to a devil. 
Whv, he’d fly at my throat like a mad dog.” 

“There 3"ou ’re wrong, father,” returned Will, pityingly. “I know 
uncle better than you do, and I feel sure he don’t think half as much 
about the loss of his money as he does about mother. What galls 
him more than all is your keeping out of his way. Remember, he’s 
never had even a fair explanation of what led to the misfortune yet. 
If you would only go to him, and give him as candid an account as 
you ’ve given me, I’ll stake my life upon it the family quarrel would 
be healed.” 

But Edward Blythe was not to be persuaded. Ostensibly held 
back from seeking a reconciliation by fear of Ralph’s violence, the 
motive really governing him was, after all, the belief that sedulous 


132 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


abstinence from a renewal of intercourse was his best safeguard 
against being forced to come to an arrangement. The sailor’s love 
for his sister, he rightly calculated, would prevent his taking com- 
pulsory steps. Lastly, Blythe felt a species of reliance upon the 
promise given him at Liverpool by Stark. 

The line of action proposed by Will would directly defeat all 
these precautionary schemes. Judging by his own insane devotion 
to interest, Ralph would embrace the offer of reimbursement, how- 
ever tardj^ or distant. And repayment in any shape was precisely 
the one and only course Edward had at that time firmly made up 
his mind never to adopt. For in his secret heart he could not con- 
ceive of any man who had a claim to a large sum of money not set- 
ting every engine at his command to work to effect its recovery. 
No; keeping aloof was his safest policy, and one he would not, at any 
rate at present, be persuaded to give up. 

Yet, if you can understand the anomaly, Edward Blythe still 
felt fully persuaded he was not a dishonorable man. Nor, in his 
other transactions with mankind, had any tendency to unfair deal- 
ing ever been displayed. Liberal and generous he never was; yet hith- 
erto always just. He would have knocked any man down who had 
dared, in so many words, to accuse him of knavery. 

But, in this particular matter, where, by every moral law, every 
strict principle of honor and fair dealing, he was unquestionably 
bound to take the course suggested by Will, the very magnitude of 
the sacrifice involved blinded him to the only straightforward and 
honest course. 

Rather than risk Ralph’s acceptance of the offer he was called 
upon to make, Edward was content to sneak about his homestead 
and fields, to look contemptible in the eyes of the wife he had irre- 
parably injured, and the son of whom he was proud — to keep out of 
the way of the man who had been defrauded by his fault, if not ac- 
tually by his hands. And all this humiliation, this degredation, this 
moral infamy, he was willing to suffer sooner than go openly to his 
brother-in-law, confess the temptation to which he had yielded, and 
say to him candidly: Thus and thus was I led away; thus did I 
act ; but I was wrong, and am ready to do everything in my power 
to make good my fault. 

Exaggerated idol-worship — notably in the shape of over-ween- 


ALBANY StARK^S RBVENGH. 


133 


ing devotion to this world’s gear— -is fertile of greater evils than 
merely hardening the heart. Avarice makes a man not only a cow- 
ard and a slave, but it kills his sense of honor, blunts his moral per- 
ceptions, renders him a pining, miserable, and discontented wretch 
while he lives, and leaves him whining upon his deathbed after the 
perishable gods no man can carry with him across the grave. 

At the risk of being thought needlessly prosy or didactic, it has 
been necessary to go closely into Edward’s motives, in order to 
show how this wretched apprehension weighed upon his life and 
paralyzed all his subsequent acts. It hung upon him like an exces- 
sive handicap upon an over-weighted horse. It not only retarded 
his progress in the race after wealth at all hazards, for which he had 
entered himself at the outset of his married career, but it bore a very 
considerable share in producing the subsequent catastrophe by 
which the race was altogether stopped, the rider thrown, and his 
reckless course brought to an untimely close. 

Finding it impossible to persuade his father voluntarily to seek 
Ralph Lee with an offer of^reparation. Will determined to try if the 
purpose he had so much at heart could not be effected by stratagem. 
Sincerely believing that if the two men could only be brought face 
to face, the friendly feeling and natural kindliness he thought latent 
in the minds of both would make its way to the surface, this good- 
hearted young fellow set his wits to contrive an interview between 
them. 

Choosing an afternoon when he knew his father was busily en- 
gaged in superintending some building operations upon an outlying 
portion of the homestead. Will managed to entice Ralph to accom- 
pany him in that direction. During the walk, the young man grad- 
ually led the conversation to the family quarrel. Without attempting 
to palliate his father’s fault, he frankly admitted there was much 
in Edward’s conduct that appeared to need excuse. But it was not 
for him, said Will, to anticipate the explanation he felt sure his 
father was eager and ready to afford, if he thought there were a 
chance of its being patiently heard. Would Ralph give his brother- 
in-law that chance ? Why should they keep up a resentment that 
was only a source of pain to all ? Would it not be kinder and wiser 
to overlook the past and come to a better understanding for the fu- 
ture ? Lastly, Will dwelt earnestly upon his mother’s deep grief at 


134 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVBNGB, 


the breach between her husband and brother, and, as the strongest 
argument at his command, assured his uncle, in her name, and by her 
especial desire, that her chief remaining earthly hope was to effect 
the reconciliation of those she so dearly loved. 

Softened by his nephew’s straightforward honesty, and touched 
by the message from the sister for whom he felt perhaps a deeper 
affection than for any other being upon earth, Ralph visibly relaxed 
much of the haughty air with which he had received Will’s first men- 
tion of the unwelcome theme. 

“You ’re right enough on one point, lad,” he answered. “Tis lit- 
tlegood keeping up bad blood between us; though, I tell you plainly, 
to my thinking, your father’s not to be excused. He don’t deserve 
the trouble you ’re taking about him, and some day, I suspect, you’ll 
find his real character out. Still, for Annis’ sake. I’ll not stand in 
the way of agreement. Let Edward satisfy me he was really swin- 
dled out of the money I sent in the way you say he was — let him ex- 
plain the injury to your mother, and his desertion ojT her in her trou- 
ble — and I ’ll think no more of what’s past.” 

“Thank heaven, then, we can set your mind at ease! ” cried Will, 
joyously. “Stay here a moment, uncle, while I call m3^ father. He’s 
close at hand.” 

He leapt across a little ditch dividing the farm lands from the 
highway, ran rapidly across the intervening space, and disappeared 
into a half-built barn. 

Minutes passed, without any sign of his return. Impatient 
Ralph paced haughtily up and down the road, his fiery temper ris- 
ing with every second of delay. At last — after at least a quarter of 
an hour’s interval — the figures of Edward and his son appeared in 
view. The quick and energetic gestures of the younger man showed 
that he was speaking rapidly, and clearly trying to urge his father 
to haste, while Edward hung back upon his arm, laggingly, after a 
nervous, apprehensive look towards his brother-in-law, as if desirous 
even yet to make his escape. 

The sailor’s keen eye read the picture at a glance, and interpreted 
it after the fashion of his own prejudices. 

“Don’t see much sign of the eagerness to come to an understand- 
ing the youngster spoke of,” he muttered. “Curse him! To think 
she should be sacrificed to such a swab! ” 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


135 


Will had by this time brought his father within speaking dis- 
tance. 

“Well, honest and punctual Ned Blythe was the sailor^s not 
over-courteous greeting. “Your son has told you what I ask, I 
s’pose. You’ve taken plenty of time to make up ydur mind. What 
yarn have you got to spin ? ” 

Stammering and confused, with eyes now kept steadfastly on 
the ground, now wandering furtiveiy aside and past his interroga- 
tor, but never resting fairly upon the scornful, incredulous face be- 
fore him, Edward Blythe faltered forth a lame explanation of his 
dealings with Wylie, in which he nevertheless contrived to represent 
himself as altogether the innocent and guileless victim, and to paint 
the class-leader in far blacker colors than he actually deserved. 

Ralph listened to the halting narrative with a sneer, only re- 
strained for a time from breaking into an open expression of con- 
tempt and unbelief by Will Blythe’s deprecating air. The younger 
man’s shame and distress at the miserable figure made by his father 
were clearly legible upon his honest face. 

“Well, is that all ?” demanded Ralph, when Edward ceased. 

“Ye — yes; that’s all,” was the hesitating reply. 

“You’ve nothing to propose then?” 

“Oh no — no (this promptly) “nothing.” 

“Oh, father, father ! ” broke in Will, but Ralph checked him at once 
with a stern glance and a backward wave of the hand. 

“Silence, lad. You ’ve done your part. Now leave this man to 
me. So” — and he turned to Edward’s shrinking figure — “after being 
taken in, even upon your own showing, by a shallow trick that 
wouldn’t have deceived a child, you come to me, as one man of the 
world to another, and say 3"Ou can’t offer any plan for making your 
blundering good. Is that what I’m to understand ? ” 

“I did n’t get any benefit from the money,” retorted Edward, 
more boldly than he had yet spoken, seeing himself now fairly 
brought to bay. “ Except — except the higher interest for a year. If 
you insist upon it, I — I don’t mind paying back the difference; that’s 
to say if I must.” 

“ Oh, father! ” repeated Will turning away with a groan. 

Ralph surveyed the pinched and anxious face before him with a 
blaze of withering scorn. Whatever his faults, nay, even his crimes 


136 


AtBANy STARK^^ REVENOB, 


—and they were neither few or light— meanness and want of daring 
were not among their number. He regarded these defects with as 
heartfelt and as genuine a disgust as could possibly have been felt 
by the most generous and upright mind. 

“You see, young Will,” he said at last, turning to his nephew, 
“you see, I judged this wretched creature rightly. Not content with 
cheating me in connivance with his runaway agent — with whom, 
say what he may, of course he’s shared the plunder — not satisfied 
with having shot down, like a midnight assassin, the best and ten- 
derest wi^ man ever had, and rendering her life a burden and a trial 
— he’s actually not ashamed to come here, and own his baseness to 
my face. ’Tis n’t the money I care for ; I can afford the loss. But if 
he had the common spirit of a man, he would at least have offered 
to make part of it good. ’T is likely I should n’t have taken it, if 
he had ; but I wanted to put him to the test. You see the result.” 

“Listen a moment, uncle! ” pleaded Will. “It ’s all my fault. I 
was wrong to bring you together without more preparation, and 
this has taken father by surprise. Give him time to think the mat- 
ter over, and I’m sure hell do all you wish. Of course we could n’t 
pay the whole at once, but bo th he and I ’ll work our fingers to the 
bone before you shall lose through us. Come, father, say you ’ll join 
me in that promise. For mother’s sake — poor, crippled^, mother’s 
sake; think how it will gratify her, who has so little left to rejoice 
her on earth. Come, promise; I know you mean it in your heart.” 

Ralph looked on curiously, but held his peace. Irrespective of 
his own share in the matter, he felt an interest in the scene. Ren- 
dered uneasy, if not troubled in conscience, by his son’s manly ap- 
peal, Edward at first seemed half inclined to assent ; then, upon reflec- 
tion, the sacrifices he would be called upon to make rose up before 
him in all their magnitude. Finally he burst out with a sudden, 
wailing cry. 

“I could n’t, boy I ’t would be like tearing out my heart-strings. 
It is n’t in my nature to give up so much. ’T is above my strength. 
I ’ll pay him back his interest — if he must have it — but I can do no 
more! ” 

Ralph burst into a yelling shout of cynical laughter. 

“ I knew it, lad ! I knew it ! ’T is the old saying of the silk purse 
and the sow’s ear. You can’t change his character. Child, boy. 


ALBANV^ SfARlL^S REVBNOn, 


I3t 


and man, money Has been his idol and his god. — As for you!’’ he 
continued, turning fiercely upon Edward Blythe, ‘‘skinflint and 
coward that you are, get out of my sight, and never let me clap eyes 
on your hangdog features again. Mean, common swindler and 
cheat — wife-killer in heart if not in act — were ’t not for my poor 
Annis and this good lad here, I’d sell you out of house and home, 
strip you of every dollar you possess till I got back what’s mine. 
Begone thief and deceiver I Go, grind your half-fed laborers to the 
dust, and hoard what you can scrape together off their wretched 
pay. See, for your own sake, that we never meet. I tell you, Ed- 
ward Blythe, ’t will be a bitter hour for you when wc two next 
stand face to face I ” 

He turned proudly away, and walked with a firm and rapid step 
down the road. 

Rejoiced in heart to have escaped so easily from the threatened 
danger, and without offering a word of remonstrance or reply, 
Edward beat a hasty retreat to the half-completed bdrn, followed 
at a little distance by his shrinking and sorely disappointed son. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


DANGEROUS. 

The progress of our story brings us back to the chambers of 
Albany Stark. 

Nat Tiptoft, the confidential clerk, had been intensely disgusted 
at the result of his mission in search of Riggs. It was true he had 
succeeded in discovering the Yankee, but, as not unfrequently hap- 
pens in this world, he had gained more than he set out to obtain. 
To wit, a contused nose and a pair of badly blackened eyes. These 
unwished-for acquisitions, not being ornamental, wounded his vanity. 

If anything could have been added to Nat’s annoyance at the dam- 
age to his frontispiece, it was the remarkably calm and easy, not to say 


138 


ALBANY STARK'S RBVBNGB. 


jocular, way in which he was received upon presentir himself at the 
office the following morning by Albany Stark. 

“ Hulloa, Tiptoft,^^ was his employer’s remark as Nat came in with 
a large patch of diachylon plaster over his nose. “ Been in the wars, 
I see. Carried off some honorable scars, too. Hm ! Don’t improve 
your natural charms, I must say. Recollect what the poet sings: 

’They who in quarrels interpose 
Will often wipe a bloody nose.’ 

A bad plan to fight, Tiptoffc. Look at me; I never do.’* 

Nat sat down to his books that morning in a white fury with 
Franz Hagedorn and his facetious principal. 

I’m dashed if I mean to stand this sort of thing! ” he muttered. 

If that’s all my thanks for putting my precious life in peril, the 
sooner you and I part company. Old Gipsy-face, the better. It isn’t 
broken, I believe,” he continued, feeling his nose anxiously for the 
hundredth time since his-misfortune. '‘Not broken, I hope and trust. 
But it’s precious sore, and will be for weeks before it’s right again. 
Fancy passing weeks with the sensation of always wanting to 
sneeze, and you can’t. To say nothing of the disfigurement, which 
ain’t a trifle.” 

Nat shook his fist with a vengeful face at the unconscious door, 
and settled down to work. The sentiment of his wrongs was so 
strong within him that in another minute or so he hastily laid down 
his pen, and pulling out his little mirror, carefully inspected the in- 
jured feature, felt it tenderly all the way down — it was n’t far — 
muttered with a sigh, “No, I don’t think it’s broken!” then went on 
with his work again. 

If he went through these motions once, I suppose he must have 
repeated them at least fifty times throughout the day. Alternating 
with these interruptions came intervals of gloomy and sullen medi- 
tation, when Nat brooded over vengeance in the way he had seen 
that passion depicted upon the stage. He ground his teeth, 
jgnashed them together, shot out his lips, frowned, and exhibited the 
whites of his eyes “in a fine frenzy rolling,” until a bystander might 
have doubted he could ever get those organs to look straight again. 
When finally, at the end of the day, he dashed his hat upon his head^ 
tipping it up behind to hide his damages, and smote it viciously 


ALBANY STARK^S REVBNGB. 


139 


upon the crown to keep it in position, he had evidently formed a de- 
termination of some kind which boded ill to his employer. 

Probably in pursuance of the plan formed during this miserable 
day, Nat made his appearance in Clement’s Inn next morning full an 
hour before his usual time, Passing through the vacant outer office 
he entered his own room, and took up the letters lying upon his 
desk. It was his duty to bring these at once into his principal’s 
apartment, but just at present he did nothing of the sort. He sub- 
jected them one by one to a most careful and minute inspection. 
The seals, the post-marks, the handwriting, all underwent examina- 
tion in turn. One in particular, bearing the stamp of “ Lynn,” and 
the date of the previous day, attracted his especial attention. He 
turned it this way, and he turned it that, he held it up to the light^ 
he tried to catch a word or a sentence by holding it crossways be- 
twixt his finger and thumb, and finally he essayed the seal. Adhesive 
envelopes fastened with a lick and a thump, I may be permitted to 
remind your erudition, are of comparatively recent introduction, 
and were then unknown. 

Nat found the vsrax too faithful to its trust to yield without de- 
tection. 

“I know who that’s from,” he whispered. “I should recognize 
that ‘y’ and the sweeping dash across the ‘ t’ among a thousand. 
That’s our swell agent, or bonnet, or decoy, or whatever he is-— 
Captain Oliver Blande. And by George, he is a swell too, and no 
mistake. Regular tiptop. He’s been a gentleman once, whatever 
he may be now. I’ll swear ; or if not the real thing, so near it that 
not one in a million would know the difference. 

Nat laid the letter down upon the desk, and reflected a moment. 

“Yes,” he re-commenced, “I’ll try my hand on him to begin with. 
There’s something up between him and the governor, I know, and 
he’s near Lynn, I know that too. Very good; then I just mean to 
find out what it is. When I’ve got to the bottom of it, then Old 
Blackface shall be repaid his chaff with interest. He’ll find ’t was 
the stupidest thing he ever did in his life to rile Nat Tiptoft.” 

A blunder frequently committed by those who pride themselves 
upon extreme astuteness is that of undervaluing an inferior. Clever 
men, talented men, intellectual men, constantly fall into this mistake. 
Knowing their own superiority of mental power to some other, they 


140 


ALBANY STARK^S REVBNGU. 


fancy themselves free to ill-treat, insult, annoy, or vex without the 
despised subordinate daring to retaliate. And it is not by any means 
a pleasant aspect of human nature to admit that very generally they 
argue rightly. The menial spirit takes its buffet with a scowl, may- 
hap, but without a murmur; the servile soul crouches to the lash, 
and if it does not lick the hand that strikes, accepts degradation as 
essential to a low position. Occasionally, however, the crushed worm 
turns, and stings. When it does, be sure it knows neither stay nor 
mercy. 

This was exactly the case with Nat Tiptoft and Albany Stark, 
Aware of the petty, trivial vanity of his clerk, his small capacity 
and narrow mind, the lawyer had often vented his misanthropic 
spleen in sneers and flouts and jeers by which Nat’s high opinion of 
his own merits had been sorely galled, but he had taken them as 
concomitants of his condition. Now, however, Nat had been really 
hurt, wounded to the quick in his ten derest part, pierced at the spot 
where such as he — though with hides as thick as alligators in other 
respects — are just most vulnerable, penetrated to the marrow of his 
personal vanity and self-conceit. And he swore to be revenged. 

‘^I’ll make a beginning with the Captain,” repeated Nat. First, 
how about time? Three-quarters good before anybody comes. 
That’s all right. Now to business. 

Taking up the letters, he carried them into the private room and 
laid them out upon the table, reserving the letter with the Lynn 
post-mark for separate treatment. Then he locked the door of com- 
munication upon the inside, and disposed the key so that no furtive 
eye could espy his proceedings. From his coat-pocket he produced 
a small lamp and a little flask containing spirits of wine. Filling 
the lamp he struck a match, and set light to the spirit. The blade 
of a knife, rapidly heated in the strong flame almost to redness, was 
then passed deftly underneath the seal of the letter he desired to in- 
spect. Partially melting, the wax gave, and the letter was unsealed. 

It is needless to quote the purport of the communication. You 
will already have guessed its contents. A detailed report from Oliver 
to his principal of his attempt upon the seaman’s chest in the library 
at the Towers, of his failure, and the obstacle with which he had 
met, lastly an account of his narrow escape from detection, and of 
the arrival of Riggs. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


141 


Nat’s eyes grew round with wonder as he perused this singular 
document. He repeated its concluding sentences softly to himself. 
Thus they ran: 

“You see now the chief difficulty with which we have to contend. 
I rely upon you to make the necessary inquiries and furnish me as 
early as possible with the means of achieving success.” 

“What on earth does he mean by that? ” cogitated Nat, grasping 
his nose tenderly with a gesture that had already become habitual. 
“‘The means of achieving success!’ Success in what? They’re 
playing a deep game, these two, that’s evident; and a rascally game 
also. But hang me if I can see my way into it yet, at any rate.” 

Heating the blade of the knife again, he applied it once more to 
the seal, pressed the wax, and restored the letter to its original as- 
pect. None but a man of extraordinary acuteness could perceive 
signs of its having been tampered with. 

“ Now I’ll be off I ” exclaimed the spy. “ ’ T wont do to tempt for- 
tune too much at once. This little performance ‘to be continued in 
our n«xt,’ as the story writers say.” 

Blowing out his lamp, he replaced it in his pocket, then turned 
to quit the room. Horror! A firm and rapid step approached the 
door from the opposite side, and grasped the handle. Nat staggered 
back in dismay. 

“ Caught ! ” he whispered feebly. It’s his foot. I’d know it among 
a thousand. What can have brought him up at this time? If he 
finds me here, I’m done for. Good heavens! Where shall I hide?” 

Fluttering to and fro in his alarm, his eye fell upon a small closet — 
in which, as he knew, Stark kept files of clients’ papers and such deed 
boxes as he rarely required. The key was in the lock. Nat rushed 
to the place, and opened the door, and, with presence of mind upon 
which — even in his terror — he could not help pluming himself, care- 
fully locked his small person. in. The bolt had scarcely shot before 
Stark entered the room from the door giving into the passage with- 
out. 

The lawyer stood in the centre of his room, and gazed suspiciously 
around. How was it he had not been able to obtain admission? 
What business had the door to be locked inside ? He advanced to 
the table. Fresh cause for distrust met his eye. If his room had 
been left inadvertently closed by the housekeeper — the only possible 


142 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


explanation— ho w came his letters here ? The powerful and peculiar 
odor of the burning spirit yet lingered in the air, and occasioned fur- 
ther mistrust. 

“Something i^rong here, I doubt,” he muttered. “ Let us see.” 

Walking to the closet within which Nat had disappeared, he took 
a duplicate key from a bunch and inserted it in the lock. The key 
penetrated half way, but declined to go further. Stark withdrew 
the unfaithful servant, and— always suspicious — inspected the works. 
Detecting nothing, he tried to insert it again, but with the same 
result. 

“The lock’s hampered, I suppose,” he said. “Must have a smith 
to pick it.” 

He turned away, to quaking Nat’s inexpressible relief, and exam- 
ined the letters upon his table. 

Oliver’s epistle, lying uppermost, was the first to engage his at- 
tention. Annoyed and suspicious of he knew not what, he tore it 
open angrily without observing anything amiss. The moment he 
had read it, he dashed on his hat and hastily left the room. 

Nat no sooner heard his principal’s retreating footsteps than the 
closet door came open and a pallid face peeped forth. Finding him- 
self alone, the lurker hurried from the room by the door opening into 
the passage, dashed down the staircase out into the garden of the 
Inn, then b^^ various byways emerged into the Strand. A few 
minutes’ walk along the busy thoroughfare sufficed to still the frantic 
beatings of his heart, and he set his face once more towards Clement’s 
Inn. 

“Call me the biggest fool that ever lived,” he muttered, as he 
turned under the archway, “if I try any other game of this sort. I 
would n’t live over the five minutes in that closet again, no, not for 
all the bullion in the cellars of the Bank! ” 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


143 


CHAPTER XXII. 

CROSS-EXAMINATION. 

Nat entered his room at the office for the second time that morning 
with a curions compound of feelings. Self-gratulation at his narrow 
escape contended with a strong desire to penetrate to the bottom of 
the mystery into which he had already taken a peep. Should he 
pursue his researches or should he take warning by the danger he 
had run ? Time and circumstance — the agents by which man is more 
often guided than by forethought and prudence — should determine. 

“Is that you Tiptoft?” cried his employer’s voice from the room 
within, as Nat had come to this sagacious decision. “Just step this 
way a moment.” 

“What’s up, I wonder ?” muttered Nat, rendered timid by con- 
science. “Can he suspect? Pooh! It’s impossible. I’m here, sir.” 

Albany Stark was sitting by the table, supporting his head upon 
his hand. His back was towards the light, so that Nat could not 
distinguish the expression upon his face. 

“ Close the door, will you ? ” he said. “ I wish to ask you a ques- 
tion or two.” 

Nat complied, then came up to the table and stood before his 
principal. Stark gazed at him keenly for a minute, so keenly that 
Nat’s eye gradually sank, and a vivid blush rose upon his cheeks up 
into the roots of his hair. A shiver rippled over him. 

The sign did not escape the notice of the observer. Accustomed 
to read the thoughts of other men from their eyes without betraying 
what was passing in his own mind, he said to himself as he saw it : 
“ Bashful or guilty — which ? ” But his lips never moved. 

“ How long have you been in my service, Tiptoft ? ” he asked pres- 
ently, in a quiet,expressionless voice, a tone that he mostly preserved 
throughout the interview. 

“ Five years, sir.” 

“Five years. You entered it as a copying clerk, I think, did you 
not? Yes; and what position do you hold now?” 


144 


ALBANY STAKK^S REVENGE. 


“Well — manager, I suppose, sir,” returned Nat in some embarrass- 
ment. What was his principle driving at ? 

‘ ‘ Manager — exactly. From a copying clerk at twenty-five shillings 
a week, I have promoted you to be my manager, with a salary of— • 
how much ? ” 

“Two hundred and fifty pounds a year, sir,” returned Nat in ever- 
increasing wonder. 

“Have I treated you badly in other respects — given you reason to 
call me a hard or exacting employer? ” 

“N — no, sir, not that I’m aware of.” 

“ You have nothing to complain of, then ? 

“No, sir; nothing.” 

Albany Stark rose, paced up and down his room some dozen 
times with his hands behind his back, then resumed his seat. 

“Pray, Tiptoft, how large a sum would secure your perfect fidelity?” 
he asked, once more bending his eyes upon his clerk’s face. 

“I — I don’t understand, sir,” stammered Nat bewildered. 

Consciousness of the wrong he had done that morning, a breach 
of the trust placed in him by the man who had just recalled to his 
mind the benefits he had received at his hands, coupled with the per- 
fect yet ominous calm of his principal’s manner, filled Nat with a 
sense of coming danger which confused the small amount of wits 
with which Nature had endowed him. 

“Yet I speak clearly, I think,” continued his tormentor. “What 
sum, I ask, would secure you fidelity ? ” 

Nat summoned up his courage to meet the coming charge before 
it was made. 

“I’m not aware of any reason you have to question my fidelity, 
sir,” he said in a quavering tone. “ I— I ’ve always served you hon- 
estly and truly, and ” 

“Stop!” said his employer sternly, with outstretched hand. 
“Don’t commit yourself further. Be careful what you say. Mind, 
I have proofs — proofs, I repeat, so be cautious.” 

He can’t know anything, thought Nat, whatever he may sus- 
pect. It ’s only his bounce. I ’ll brazen it out. 

“I ’m sure I don’t know what you allude to, sir,” he said sturd- 
ily. “You ’re quite mistaken if you fancy I ’ve done anything wrong. 
But my character’s as dear to me as any man’s, and I should be glad 
to know what you mean, please.” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


145 


A gentle knock at the door opening into the passage stopped 
Stark’s reply; He exchanged a few whispered words with the appli- 
cant, then returned to the table, bearing a small parcel in his hand. 

“I ask what sum will secure fidelity, because I wish to buy you,’^ 
he returned coolly. ^‘I thought I had done so, but find I was mis- 
taken. What is your price ? ” 

“Sir, I can’t sell myself, at all, and I don’t see what you mean,’* 
returned Nat, drawing himself up with a well-feigned air of conscious 
integrity. 

The practised face-reader saw terror and guilt in the dilated eye 
as plainly as if the words had been printed on the pupil. 

“We ’ll stop this fencing,’’ he replied quietly, “and I ’ll show you 
your real position. You came here this morning at nine o’clock— an 
hour before you had any business to be upon the premises. Denial 
is useless; you were seen. You took the letters into my room, and 
locked the door. What you next did I conjecture, but am not sure. 
So much the worse for you.” 

“Well, sir, and if I did come earlier — which I don’t say whether I 
did or not — it was only to get sooner to work at the books. It’s 
very hard if a fellow’s to be blamed for showing zeal.” 

“Did zeal make you lock yourself in my closet?” asked Stark, 
calmly. 

“ I — I did n’t, sir! Whoever says so tells a ” 

“Stop!* Don’t be hasty. Is that your right-hand glove? ’’in- 
quired the lawyer. “ If not, produce the pair.” 

Nat fumbled confusedly in his pocket. The fatal evidence was 
not to be confuted. The left-hand glove was all that he could find. 
He was silent. 

“This was found upon the floor of the closet. The door was 
locked inside when I tried the key ; it was open after I returned to 
the room. The inmate had escaped. Do you still deny you were the 
man ? ” 

“Most certainly Ido, sir!” returned Nat, boldly, in a tone of 
much assurance. 

“Good. Your memory seems short. Let me refresh it further. 
After entering my room here, you lighted a spirit lamp. Do you deny 
that also ?” 

“ Of course I do, sir. I never had such a thing in my possession.” 

“Then how came this in your coat-pocket ? ” asked Stark, unfold- 


146 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


ingthe parcel just given into his hand at the door, and displa3ring 
the identical lamp and flask of spirits Nat had used. 

The clerk fell back a pace, and stared at the proof of his false- 
hood with distended eyes. A horrible fear began to creep over him 
that his employer was something more than human. But he felt 
that sturdy denial was his only course, and plucked up his waning 
courage again. 

“ I — I — I never saw that before! he stammered. “ It is n’t mine. 
That’s all I can say.” 

“Still obstinate,” remarked Stark, coldly. “I’ll give you one 
more chance. Make a clean breast of it. Confess the object that 
brought you here and what you did with the lamp. If you admit 
the truth. I’ll overlook your treachery.” 

Nat wavered. Should he embrace the offer? Could he trust the 
human enigma before him ? There was a strong spice of obstinac3' 
in this young fellow’s character, as in that of many weak-headed 
persons, and this quality carried the day. He looked straight into 
his employer’s face. 

“I can’t admit what is n’t the fact, sir,” he answered doggedly. 
“I never saw the lamp before this moment ! ” 

‘ You did not ? Then your fate is sealed ” snarled Stark. “Wal- 
ters! Come in.” 

From the door opening into the passage entered a tall, thin per- 
sonage, whom Nat instantly recognized as an agent occasionalh" 
employed by Albany Stark on his secret missions. 

“ What have you found in the pocket of this young man’s coat ? ” 
asked Stark, sharply. 

“The parcel I gave you just now, sir,” replied the man, “and 
these.” 

He held out a small roll of bank-notes carefully wrapped up in a 
sheet of writing-paper. 

“Leave them here. Fetch a policeman, and wait outside till I 
call.” 

Walters bowed, and departed upon his errand. Stark turned 
once more to his trembling clerk. 

“Do 3^011 see 3^our danger now, you miserable, prevaricating fool ?” 
he asked, with a savage curl of the lip. “I can prove your presence 
here at an unusual hour — your concealment in my closet — your de- 
nial of having been in the room, although I myself saw 3"OU rush 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


147 


down tlie stairs — lastly, yonr possession of property I am prepared 
to swear is mine. Will yon dare trifle longer, idiot ? ” 

^^No, no, no, sir! ” implored Nat, falling upon his knees and rais- 
ing up his clasped hands in supplication. “I was here, sir. 1 did 
hide in the closet. I admit it, sir; I do indeed. But upon my sacred 
word and honor, sir, I did not take the notes I 
“Do I not know it, blunderer?’^ rejoined Stark in a low, stem 
voice. “No man robs me unpunished. But you are in my power, 
and unless you confess what really brought you here, I ’ll crush you 
as I would crush a viper. What is an oath to me ? I am ready to 
swear my property was found upon you. Now will you speak ? ” 
“Oh, spare me, sir! ” cried the wretched man, seeing himself hope- 
lessly entangled in the artful web. “Spare me and I ’ll tell all ! ” I 
will, indeed, sir, truly and honestly. I ’ll keep back nothing. Only 
for heaven’s sake, have mercy, and don’t bring a charge.” 

“Go on,” was the sole reply. 

Then Nat poured forth his confession. 'He was so utterly cowed 
and daunted by the measure taken to subdue him that he did not 
suppress a single item. With sobs and tears and cries for mercy he 
told the object of his espial, the means he had employed, the success 
with which he had met, vehementl;f’ declared his innocence of injur- 
ing his principal, attributing all he had done to curiosity, and 
wound up with a piteous prayer to be forgiven. 

“And that was all?” demanded Stark, fixing his eye upon the 
tear-blubbered face before him as if he would have bored into Nat’s 
soul. “You only read Captain Blande’s letter, and no other? ” 

“No other, sir, upon my word and honor.” 

“A pretty gage ! ” sneered the lawyer. “ Is this the first time you 
have played this despicable part ? ” 

“ Indeed, indeed it is, sir, and I assure you it shall be the last. It 
shall indeed ! ” 

“That Ifil ensure,” replied Stark, drily. “Here, Walters, tell the 
policeman we shan’t require him to-day. The little misunderstand- 
ing has been cleared up. You can go.” 

Turning to Nat, he add d in a hissing whisper, as he shook his 
forefinger in the clerk’s face : “Go to your duty, sir, and remember 
the peril in which you stand. Henceforth you are my slave, and no 
man ever deceives me twice. Breathe to mortal a syllable of what 


148 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


you hear within these walls, and before twenty-four hours are over 
you shall sleep in jail. Begone ! ** 


CHAPTER XXIIl. 

THE SECRET OF THE CHEST. 

“There are the elements of a very tolerable rascal in that young- 
ster,” mused the lawyer as he strode thoughtfully up and down the 
room. “ With one drawback, however — something too much of the 
cur. Well, we must use him for the present, and get rid of him when 
convenient. The true artist gains his ends even with bad materials. 
Come in! ” 

Ah elderly man with a quiet, thoughtful face, a mechanic evi- 
dently from his leathern apron and ordinary dress, stepped into the 
room. 

“You wished to see me, I understand, Mr. Stark,” was his ad- 
dress, as he placed his hat upon the floor, and came towards the 
lawyer. 

“Ah, good morning, Matson. Yes, to be sure. I Ve something in 
your line of business again. Take a chair.” 

“ Thank ye, sir, you ’re very kind. If you ’ll excuse me I ’d rather 
stand. It’s a rest like after sitting so much at the bench.” 

“ As you please. Well, I need hardly tell you that we lawyers often 
have curious questions to answer. Problems not to be found in 
Coke or Blackstone are submitted to us for solution in the coolest 
manner possible,, and we’re thought very dull dogs if we can’t give 
a satisfactory reply off hand. I dare say it’s much the same in all 
walks of life, though, if the truth was known — eh? ” 

“Deary me, yes, sir,” answered Matson, smiling. “Least-ways ’t 
is so with me, I ’m sure. People come into my place sometimes, and 
say ‘ Locksmith, I ’ve lost a key. Just make me another ; will you ? 
How much will it be ? ’ — * Well,’ says I, ‘ what sort of a key ? ‘ Oh, 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


149 


a street-door key; patent latch; you know the kind of thing. 
What’s your charge ?’ — ‘ Where’s the lock ? ’ says I. — ‘ Oh, that’s on 
the door, of course. Where should it be ? ’ And then the partj^ goes 
away quite huffed acause I tell him I can’t make a key without 
having the lock. It ’s the way o’ the world, Mr. Stark. People 
don’t stop to think, aud get angry when you show ’em they ’re on- 
reasonable.” 

” Quite so, Matson. It ’s curious you should use that illustration, 
for I want to ask you something of that very kind. A client of mine, 
whose wife is a confirmed invalid — out of her mind indeed and tem- 
porarily under restraint— has urgent need of important family 
papers locked up in his lady’s desk. A law-suit in fact is pending, 
which these documents will decide in his favor. The wife is the mon- 
ied party, and has her own settlement. But unfortunately, owing 
to her condition, which may last an indefinite time, the key of this 
desk cannot be produced. Search has been made in every conceiva- 
ble place, and it is not to be found. Meanwhile time is growing 
short, and unless the papers are brought forward, my client will lose 
the day.” 

“Can’t the desk be broke open, sir?” asked the locksmith inno- 
cently. 

“ It could, perhaps ; but there are reasons for not adopting that 
course. First, the lady’s relatives — very high people — would be much 
offended. Next, to tell you the ^ruth, it is important to my client 
to keep the matter secret from them until the documents are pro- 
duced in Court. There are family reasons why this should be done 
— reasons I can’t explain out of regard for m3'' client, but perfectly 
satisfactory to myself and the other legal gentlemen engaged. In 
fact, it is by our advice that he pursues this line of action.” 

“Oh!” ejaculated Matson, thoughtfully. “Could I see the desk, 
sir? P’raps I can manage to pick the lock ? ” 

“Well, there are obstacles to that also,” returned Stark, glibly. 
“The same reasons, which as I’ve said are professional secrets, pre- 
venting the desk being broken open, also hinder its being taken 
away from where it now is. It’s a very awkward business 
altogether.” 

“Very I ” returned the smith drily. 

“ But it has occurred to me, from what my client writes, that per- 
haps the obstacle may not lie in the lock at all. Keys have been 


150 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


found that turn the bolts, but still the lid cannot be raised. The 
impression upon my client’s mind is that some spring, the secret of 
which is only known to the maker of the desk and the unfortunate 
lunatic lady, requires to be touched before the lock will act. Now, 
did you ever, in the course of your experience, hear of such an ar- 
rangement, and can you give us any clue to what that arrange- 
ment is?” 

Matson stood thoughtfully a few minutes, the lawyer glancing 
at him craftily, without appearing to look, and feigning indifference 
though inwardly aglow with impatience. But few men were equal 
adepts at concealing their thoughts with Albany Stark. 

never heard of anything ’o the kind with a desk,” observed the 
smith, slowly, scraping his rough chin with the back of his hand, 
‘‘but there’s a apparatus invented by a clever young chap as was 
with me a year ago which might answer the purpose. That was 
applied to a seaman’s chest, though; that was.” 

A light flashed into the lawyer’s sullen eye. He looked up eagerly, 
then checked himself directly. 

“Ay, what was that ? Can you give me an idea how it works ? ” 
he said, quietly. 

“Well, yes, sir, I could. There’s a bit of a model o’ the mechanism 
at the vShop, which I got him to let me have before he went away. 
Poor young chap! He was a Prussian, and had to go home and serve 
as a soldier. If he had n’t he ’d hg’ been put in prison whenever he 
went to Germany again.” 

“ Can you let me see this model ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, o’ course there ain’t no harm in showing it to a respect- 
able gent, like you, as you won’t make any bad on it, tho’ ’twouldn’t 
do to let any cracksman get hold o’ the idea.” 

“Set your mind at ease, Matson. I ’m not the man to commit 
burglary; be sure of that,” returned Stark, with an easy laugh. 

“No, no, sir, o’ course not. Only, you see, the plan may have been 
wrought out elsewhere, and it ’s a dangerous secret. I never heerd 
of its being used for a desk, as I said, though I don’t see why it 
should n’t be either. I’ll fetch the model, sir.” 

“Do ; you will oblige me greatly.” 

Matson departed. The door had scarcely closed behind him 
before Albany Sturk sprang to his feet, and traversed the floor in 
uncontrollable excitement. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


151 


A seaman’s chest ! Ten to one ’t is the very thing. What com- 
mon sailor would dream of taking such precautions? What again 
more likely than that Ralph Lee, the crafty man we know' him, em- 
ployed Matson for this very purpose? I’ll sound him further. If 
Fortune has guided me right, the chance — nay, the certainty— of the 
chest holding a clue has risen a thousandfold. We shall see.” 

In about half an hour the locksmith returned, bringing his model 
carefully wrapped up under his arm. Withdrawing the handkerchief 
by which it was covered, he placed it upon the table with an air of 
as tender pride as a young mother feels in showing her first-bom. 

There you are, sir! ” he exclaimed, holding his head on one side 
to survey the prodigy the better. “As pretty a bit of mechanism as 
was ever turned out of a shop, though ’t ain’t much to look at 
neither.” 

“He was right. The much-vaunted model presented the external 
aspect of an ordinary boxj fitted with a lock. Oblong in shape, it 
measured about eighteen inches broad by six deep, was fashioned 
apparently of oak, and possessed no outward feature in any way 
distinguishing it from any other little box of similar size. 

“Now, loot you here, Mr. Stark,” said Matson. “First you shall 
see this ’ere chest — we ’ll call it a chest, cos that ’s what it ’s the 
model of— do what you say this poor lady’s desk does.” 

He placed a key in the lock, turned it, and then invited the law- 
yer to raise the lid. It was immovable. 

“Now look ye here,” continued the old man, placing both his 
thumbs under the hinges at the back of the model. “ Try again.” 

The moment Stark touched the lid, it flew open with a jerk that 
almost startled his steady nerves. 

“Why, how’s that? he exclaimed peering into the chest. “I 
can see nothing — no motive power. It ’s quite like magic, only of 
course that’s absurd. Tell me, how is it done?” 

“That’s just the beauty of it!” cried Matson, triumphantly. 
“ You might look, or the best locksmith in the world might look for 
a month, and he wouldn’t find it out. That’s the secret, Mr. Stark.” 

“It’s very effective, anyhow,” returned the lawyer. “Come, my 
friend, let liglit in upon my darkness. I’ll make it worth your while. 
This must surely be the plan in my client’s case.” 

“Ineverheerd of it being applied to a desk, as I said,” returned 


162 


ALBANY STARK^S REVLNGL. 


the smith. ‘‘Though there ain’t no reason why it should n’t be. 
Now look ye here again, sir; I’m a going to explain.” 

Withdrawing his pressure from the back of the chest, he lowered 
the lid. A slight snip-snap, like the grating contact of steel with 
steel, was heard within. Matson locked the chest and withdrew the 
key. 

‘*To show this here thing properly, you must see itin haetion,sir,” 
he observed. ‘‘The model’s made to allow of that. What I’m a 
going to exhibit now don’t exist in the real ehest, only in this.” 

He touehed one of the screws at each brass-bound corner of the little 
box. Sections of the side and front, but not of the baek, fell open, 
these being construeted in halves, and lay flat upon the table. The 
smith then pointed out to Stark a series of small saw-shaped teeth 
within the thiekness of the front and sides. These fitted into similar 
teeth, bent slightly backwards so as to interlock firmly, placed at 
intervals around the lid. On eaeh side were two of these series, 
along the front of the model, four. 

‘‘That’s the whole apparatus, sir! ” exelaimed the smith with an 
air of exultation. “Now let me show you how it works.” 

He inserted the key and unloeked the chest. Then he pressed his 
thumbs again against the baek. Watehing the teeth. Stark saw 
them slowly part, the lower series receding some slight distanee 
downwards, the upper series rolling baek into the thiekness of the 
lid. By an almost simultaneous movement, small slips of wood rose 
to the surface of the sides and lid and concealed the teeth. The 
mechanism was so perfect that the apparatus, hidden as it w^as be- 
neath an apparently solid substance, entirely eluded detection. 

“ D’ye see how it’s done, sir ? ” asked the smith. “These two little 
screws to the right of the hinges move the teeth and raise the wood. 
These to the left depress the slips and lock the teeth. Did you ever 
see anything so pretty and so perfect ? ” 

Carefully inspecting the model, Stark was forced to admit its ex- 
quisite perfection. 

“ There’s only one drawback I can perceive,” he said. 

“Ay, sir, and what may that be?” 

“Suppose this applied to a chest in which a burglar suspected 
money or valuables to be concealed. Finding the lock would n’t 
open and that he was unable to pry off the lid, what is to prevent 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


153 


his breaking through the siJ and so gaining admission ? It’s true 
the chest would be destroyed, .mt the contents could be stolen.” 

Ay, but suppose he could n’t break through the sides ! How then ? 
Lookye here again, sir. Front, sides, back, bottom, are lined with 
exquisitely tempered steel. The joints are double-plated with the 
same metal. There’s not a tool in the world could pierce that steel. 
No, sir. Perfect security’s gained here, and it’s the only invention 
where I ever see it.” 

“Did I understand you to s^y only one chest was made after this 
model ? ” inquired Stark. 

“Only one, to my knowledge, sir. You see, it’s a very expensive 
piece of work, and takes a deal o’ time. Every bit of metal used is 
of first-rate quality and must be fitted to a nicety. The chest as was 
made took best part of my man’s time six months, and he worked 
at it with a will, being, as you may say, the child of his own brain. 
Why, sir, the gentleman as it were made for paid me 200 guineas for 
that chest, and glad to. Said he’d ha’ given a thousand pound 
sooner than ha’ gone without it. Ah ! confound them Proosians, 
say I, as took my right-hajid man away. He should ha’ been in 
partnership with me in another year and welcome, and we’d ha’ 
made both our fortunes out of this here, that we would ! ” 

“You don’t happen to recollect the name of the gentleman who 
has the chest, I suppose?” asked Stark, carelessly, though his heart 
beat fast as he came to the fact he was so eager to learn. 

“Yes, I do, sir. A very rich gent just come home from Jamaiky, 
and built himself a place down near Lynn in Norfolk, Captain Lee. 
Did you ever hear of him, sir ? ” 

“Lee — Lee! ” repeated Stark, with his hand at his forehead, as if 
endeavoring to recollect. 

“A tall, dark gent, sir; very sharp and quick in speaking. Been a 
sailor, I fancy. We did all the fittings-up of his place at Lynn — The 
Towers, I think they call it. Do you know him, sir? ” 

“No — no — I think not,” returned Stark, with admirably feigned in- 
difference. “The name is not uncommon, but I know no one who bears 
it. By the way, Matson, would you mind leaving this model a few 
days with me ? I should like to see whether the principle really is 
the same as in my client’s case. It shan’t be injured, I give you my 
word.” 

“I’ll leave it, sir, and welcome. I’d sell it or make you a present 


154 


ALBANY STABK^S REVENGE. 


of it, if I might be so bold, only I can’t bear to part with what cost 
that young chap so many hours’ thought and work. P’r’aps he’ll 
come t)ack too, some day — who knows? — and we may make our 
fortunes yet.” 

‘^Thanks, Matson,” returned Stark, slipping a bank note into the 
.smith’s hand. ” There’s some slight compensation for your loss of 
time, and the pleasure you have given me in this interesting sight.” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

RECOGNITION. 

While Albany Stark in London was following up with relentless 
energy the object upon which he had set his heart, Oliver Blande 
was collecting evidence in another direction at Lynn. Each in his 
several way, the two men were gaining at the same moment a 
glimpse at the purpose both had in view. 

Oliver’s reason for desiring the presence of Riggs, though as yet 
kept secret from Stark, need no longer be hidden from us. Knowing 
the Yankee to be an unscrupulous, daring fellow, with a liking for 
himself personally, and tolerabl3^ sure — for various cogent reasons — 
to be faithful to Stark, he had thought it well to have so convenient 
an instrument ready to his hand. Next, he had conceived a strong 
suspicion that something, which would not easily bear the light, was 
hidden in that unaccounted-for period of Ralph Lee’s life between, his 
leaving England a common sailor, and appearing in Jamaica a short 
time afterwards the master of a .ship. Men conscious that their own 
lives would not stand inspection are wonderfully prone to suspect evil 
in the deeds of others. With a strong interest — stronger by far than 
he even dreamt of— in tracing step by step Ralph Lee’s checkered 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVLNGB. 


155 


career, Oliver thought it not improbable Riggs might recognize in 
the sailor ^ome one he had seen and known during that mysterious 
period in different scenes. 

Explaining to the Yankee just as much as he thought proper of 
the purpose for which he had been summoned to Lynn, Oliver took 
his stand with his new ally one morning at the window of a private 
room in the same public-house where he had first met Captain Lee. 

“The man I want to show you will pass across the market-place 
within the next hour,’^ he said. “ Wile away the time you have to 
wait with a glass of grog and a pipe, if you choose, but be at hand 
the instant I call.’ ^ 

“It’s a right down pleasure to work with a gent like you. Cap,’' 
returned Riggs, dislodging a juicy-looking quid from his cheek and 
depositing it in his waistcoat pocket for subsequent use. “ You hev 
a kinder sort o’ nat’ral appreshation of a feller’s human cravin’s. 
I’ll jist take your advice an’ blow a cloud. You’ll jine in lickerin’ up, 
Cap? ” 

“ Thanks, Riggs, not at present. I’ve some delicate work on hand 
and must keep my head clear. What will you take ? ” 

“Wall, our old medico used to say as a stiff jorum o’ rum an’ milk, 
took fust thing in the mornin’, were the finest stom— stim— stam — 
daff-n them three-deckers ! Bear a hand, Cap. Don’t leave a shipmet 
stranded on a jaw-breaker ! ” 

“Stomachic, you mean, I suppose.” 

“Them’s the beggars. Cap ? The finest stomakickle ever known for 
the digestion. Abiah Riggs ain’t the coon to set up agin the faculty.” 

Ringing the bell for the desired refreshment, Oliver took up his 
post by the little window, and watched. 

It was market-day in Lynn and nearly noon. The square of the 
little Norfolk town was crowded with the sturdy figures of farmers 
from the neighborhood; great burly forms in top-boots and thick 
overcoats — the morning being chilly — who greeted friends and kins- 
men with a strong grip of the hand and a hearty slap on the back, 
that would have knocked the breath out of a slim townsman’s body 
but only seemed to strike these sons of Anak, cast in a firmer mould, 
as a capital friendly joke. After each of these performances, slapper 
and slapped usually adjourned to an adjoining bar for “just a dropo^ 
summut to keep out the cold.” 

Besides these jovial fellows, the square was filled with the usual 


156 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


visitors to a place of general resort on market-day. Horses were 
trotted up and down by chaunters trying to show off their various 
points, and conceal or explain away their faults. Cattle, sheep and 
pigs were confined in little pens. Small sacks of different kinds of 
grain were scattered about, containing samples of the produce 
offered for sale. Laborers’ wives stood round with eggs, butter, 
fowls, milk, and cream. Vendors of crockery and different portable 
articles extolled the merits of their wares in cracked and broken 
voices, hoarse with exposure and use. In one corner of the market- 
place Cheap Jack was assuring a rustic audience they had never had 
so grand an opportunity before, as he had made a bet to sell off all 
his stock at any sacrifice before the market closed, and ever^- thing 
was being therefore literally given away. When a countryman, 
caught by the seducer’s eloquence, invested hard-earned money in 
some gaudy trifle. Cheap Jack winked slyly at the crowd, tossed the 
coin into the air, and catching it as it came down, ejaculated “sold 
again ! ” As was indeed the case. 

The noise and tumult of all these various pursuits, mixed with 
the lowing of the cattle and the grunting of the irrepressible pig, to- 
gether made up a din and hubbub that gave the bystander no bad 
id^ a of Babel. . 

Still Oliver stood steadily at his window and watched. A smile 
might occasionally flit across his features as some unusually ludi- 
crous incident caught his eye, or his gaze would follow with a look 
of interest some more than ordinarily comely face; but he never suf- 
fered himself to be diverted from his object of watching narrowly for 
the man he sought. 

He had waited about half an hour when on a sudden he called to 

Riggs. 

“Quick, this way. Look yonder. Do you see that tall, dark man 
threading his way between the women’s stands. Now he’s behind 
the cart ; wait a moment. Yes; here he comes. There, that’s the 
man I mean — stopping to talk to the slim young fellow in a brown 
top-coat. Now he turns his face this way, and you can see him well. 
Look close and tell me; did you ever see that man before? ” 

Vague and slight as was the expectation Oliver had formed that 
Riggs might recognise Ralph Lee, he was totally unprepared for the 
effect the sight of the sailor produced upon his companion. 

Riggs sprang from the window as if its panes had suddenly 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


157 


turned to glowing steel. With a blanched and terrified face— the face 
of a man who has seen some awful vision from the spirit-world — he 
dragged Oliver with him to the centre of the room, and never stopped 
until it was plain they were entirely invisible from without. 

“Kim back from the window, Cap I” he shouted. “Kim back, I 
say ! that ain’t a man. It’s a sperrit, a doomed an^ wretched sperrit 
sent back from hell to terrify the world ! “ 

“Nonsense, man. Don’t be a fool ! ” retorted Oliver angrily, shak- 
ing him off. “He’s a human being, like you and I. What I want to 
know is, whether you ever saw that man before, and where ? “ 

“Heviseenhim afore !” repeated Riggs, still shaking violently. 
“ Hev I not ? Hev n’t I sailed with him for months and seen him do 
deeds I shudder to think on — hardened as I am — even now? Didn’t 
I see him struck down by a cutlash an’ his head split gapin’ open, 
like an ox’s skull cleft b 3 " a poleaxe ? Didn’t I help sew him in his 
hammock an’ heave him overboard with a four pun’ shot at his feet? 
An’ d’ye mean to tell me that’s a live human critter o’ flesh an’ blood 
like us? ’Twon’t fit, Cap, nohow. Tell ye he’s a sperrit — a wicked, 
awful sperrit ! ’’ 

“Riggs, you’re a superstitious — never mind — but you’re mistaken^ 
I tell you, I know this man well, live in his house, associate witli 
him daily. Come here again. Look at him closely, and be sure 
you’re not wrong.’’ 

With slow and unwilling steps, urged on by Oliver, the sailor 
staggered towards the window, whence he could again see the ob- 
ject that had smitten him with such terrible alarm. Half hiding 
behind his companion, he peeped over Oliver’s shoulder, and saw 
Ralph Lee still talking to the young farmer in brown. In another 
minute the two shook hands cordially, Ralph turned away with a 
flourish of the small cane he carried, and passed out of sight. 

“I b’leeve you’re right. Cap, blarm me if I don’t !” ejaculated 
Riggs, drawing a long breath. “ He air alive an’ ’t ain’t ho sperrit 
arter all. Though how he got out o’ that ere hammock an’ kim to 
life agin ’s more nor I can put toe-gither.’’ 

“Never mind that,’’ returned Oliver, impatiently. “You say you 
sailed with him for months. When, where, under what flag?’’ 

“Cap,” returned Riggs, solemnly, “if so be as him we’ve jest seen 
be a livin’ man, ’t were in 1813, under the flag o’ the death’s head 


158 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


an’ cross-bones. If he’s a sperrit, he’s the ghost o’ 6aptain Richard 
Blackstock, my old pirate kimmander on the Spanish Main ! ” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


OLIVER TELLS A STORY. 

The light thrown by the revelation of Riggs upon Ralph Lee’s 
previous career placed the scheme, for the prosecution of which 
Oliver had visited The Towers, in an entirely fresh point of view. 

We have already seen that this young man chafed grievously 
against the yoke by which he was held in subjection to Albany 
Stark. He had, as you will recollect, already meditated upon the 
possibility of breaking the tie, and had resolved to be guided by 
such circumstances as might arise. He thought the opportunity he 
sighed for was now at hand. 

After hearing all the additional details Riggs could give him of 
what he desired to know, he dismissed that worth}", with orders to 
meet him again in the evening at a place he named. Feeling the 
necessity of thoroughly digesting and settling the course he should 
pursue, he returned to The Towers, and shut himself up, pleading 
convenient headache, in his own room until dinner-time. 

The result of his cogitations, as expressed in the sentences he mur- 
mured during the interval between the first and second dinner-bells, 
will give you the conclusion at which he arrived, without following 
all his arguments on either side. 

*H’ll feel my way at any rate. Show him I know something, and 
he’ll be sure to fancy my knowledge greater than it is. Then, if I 
find him manageable. I’ll offer terms and point out the road for es- 
cape.” 

Fortune seemed curiously propitious to Oliver that day, and cast 
in his way the very opportunity he had been wishing to obtain. 
After dinner, Ralph Lee proposed a walk to his guest. Oliver 
eagerly embraced the offer, and the two set out for Lynn. 

The singular personal likeness between these men, before 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


159 


alluded to, had never been more conspicuous than when they walked 
arm-in-arm together along the road. In air, in manner, in gait and 
gesture there was so strange a resemblance that, but for the differ- 
ence in age, a passer-by would have sworn they were twins. It was 
Oliver’s cue to create as pleasant an impression as possible in his 
companion’s mind, and he exerted his powers to such excellent pur- 
pose that Ralph was in high good humor by the time they reached 
the town. 

“ By George, my young friend ! ” he remarked, as they turned into 
the market-place, “I don’t care how long it is before you hit upon 
that desirable shooting ground you’re in search of; I shall be devilish 
sori'y to lose you when you go awa^^ But isn’t your uncle getting 
rather impatient ? ” 

“He seems to think it odd I’ve found nothing yet,” returned 
Oliver, smiling. “Still, as he knows what a fastidious fellow I am, 
he’s content to wait, sure it will be for his benefit in the end.” 

“Whenever you do get settled, mind, we shall expect to see a 
great deal of you at The Towers. You’ll alwa^^s find a knife and 
fork in your old place, and you know the hour. There musn’t be 
any nonsense about waiting to be invited, Blande, d’ye hear? ” 

“Depend upon it, Captain, I shall avail myself of your hospitable 
offer,” was Oliver’s repl}^. 

They entered the tavern where Oliver had already been that 
morning with Riggs, and, by a curious coincidence, were shown into 
the same room the two accomplices had occupied. Ralph Lee 
ordered a bowl of punch, for the composition of which seductive 
beverage the landlord was reputed to possess a recipe of unsurpass- 
able excellence. The liquor making its appearance in due course pip- 
ing hot, the two men filled each a long clay pipe, drew up to the fire, 
and prepared to spend the evening cosily together. 

“Now this is what I callreally jolly,” said Ralph presently, between 
the whiffs. “Why it is I can’t explain, but I never feel so thoroughly at 
ease as in a comfortable inn. It isn’t that there’s any particular lux- 
ury’’ in the place. Of course, there’s none. I could smoke a long pipe 
and better tobacco, and have just as good punch — Jake’s a capital 
hand at a brew — and a bigger blaze in my dining-room or my 
library at The Towers, but I shouldn’t feel half so jolly as Idohere. 
How’s that, Blande, eh?” You’re a clever chap. Solve me the 
riddle. 


160 


AT.BANY STAKK^S REVENGE. 


“It may be because punch and tobacco — however excellent or 
their kind — don’t seem appropriate, somehow, in a well-furnished 
house. Elegance and comfort are, after all, matters of individual 
liking. What one person considers the height of enjoyment is cold, 
dull and spiritless to another. Men of simple taste’s. Captain, like 
yourself, used to a hardy life, have often great difficulty in accomo- 
dating themselves to what spoiled children of luxury, such as I, 
think indispensable nececessities. 

“I fancy you’re right, my lad,” returned Ralph, after a meditative 
pause. “I was bred to the sea, you know, and had a rough time of 
it in my early years. I’m sorry I ever gave it up. ’T was a grand 
mistake, but it’s too late to ’bout ship now. Besides, there are 
reasons reasons . ” 

His voice fell away into an indistinct murmur, as he gazed 
thoughtfully into the flickering blaze that rose and fell upon the 
hearth. Memory was busy with the past. So great was his 
absorption that he failed to notice Oliver had slipped out of the room 
and was only aroused from his reverie by the young man’s almost 
instantaneous return. 

“ Hulloa ? ” he cried, looking up briskly. “ Where have you been ? 
I never missed you, I declare. I must have been at my old triek 
again — dreaming with my eyes open. Come, pass your glass. You 
don’t drink, man.” 

Oliver complied. By a curious spec es of magnetism the dream- 
iness of which his companion had just complained now seemed to 
have infected him. It was he who began to be distraught and 
absent, to answer his entertainer’s remarks at cross purposes, to 
give all the ostensible signs of a man, bodily in presenee, but whose 
mind is miles away. His pre-occupation became at last so evident, 
that Ralph Lee slapped him stoutly on the shoulder, bidding him 
wake up and pull himself together. What the deuee was he thinking 
about ? asked the sailor. What ailed him ? 

This was precisely the point to which the clever actor had desired 
to bring his host. The anticipated question had been put. Oliver 
shook off his drowsiness in an instant, and began to enact his well- 
studied part. 

“Did you ever experience the feeling,” he began, “of any subject 
entirely absorbing your mind? You’re taken possession of by a 
fixed idea. Something you have seen, something of which you have 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


161 


heard or read, is constantly before your eyes or in your thoughts. 
You think of it all day, you dream of it all night; if it abandons you 
for a moment, some chance allusion or sight, seemingly of quite an 
opposite character, brings it in all its vividnesh before you. In a 
word you seem haunted. Did you ever feel anything of the kind?” 

Ralph shot a quick, sharp glance from underneath his shaggy 
brows at his interrogator. But Oliver’s gaze was fixed apparently 
upon the fire. He had spoken in a slow, dreamy, meditative kind 
of way, totally different from his usual manner, which was frank, 
open, and pleasant, carrying the good-will of his hearers by storm. 

“I don’t call to mind ever being bothered as you describe,” replied 
the sailor, after a pause. “ Is anything haunting your mind ? ” 

“Strange, too,” continued Blande, seemingly unheeding the ques- 
tion, “that the feeling of being haunted lasts only so long as you 
keep the matter locked within your own breast. Tell it to another, 
nay, even write it out and keep the leaves close locked up in your 
desk, and the sensation of nightmare vanishes. Some things seem 
to burden the mind beyond endurance until revealed.” 

If Oliver’s object was to rouse and stimulate his companion’s curi- 
osity by affecting mystery, that object was entirely gained. Ralph 
Lee sat bolt upright in his chair, and stared at the young man open- 
mouthed. 

“ What the mischief are you driving at, Blande?” he burst out at 
last. “Deuce take me if I can make you out tonight. What ails 
you, man?” Don’t sit there nursing your head like a sick monkey. 
Speak out plainl 3 ’’, and say what ’tis you mean.” 

“I was thinking of a v’ery curious story I heard today,” was 
Oliver’s reply. “It was told me by a man I met quite by accident? 
and hadn’t seen for years. The facts, as he gives them, are of a 
most peculiar kind, and if true — which, between ourselves I rather 
doubt — are certainly worth remembering. Would you like to hear 
the story ? ’ T will seyve to pass away the time.” 

“Fire away, my lad!” returned Ralph Lee. “Anything’s better 
than sitting mumchance or talking riddles. — Pass your glass first* 
So ; there’s a bumper I Now for the yarn.” 

“You remember, I dare say,” began Oliver, “the short war 
between England and America that began in 18L2. Into its politi- 
cal cause there’s no occasion to enter; my story only relates to part 
of its results. Brief as it was, and pretty- nearly confined to naval 


162 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


operations on either side, the contest was very damaging to Eng- 
land’s maritime renown. In one instance — the hght between the 
Shannon and the Chesapeake — the honor of the old flag was splen- 
didly sustained, but in innumerable other cases Jonathan carried off 
the palm and crowed vociferously. 

“The chief injury suffered by England however, was that inflicted 
upon her enormous carrying trade. The Yankees improvised a navy 
by arming merchantmen, and issuing letters of marque, empowering 
the holders to burn, sink, capture and destroy English vessels, and 
to take their cargoes into American ports, where they were sold for 
the benefit of the captors. This authorized piracy was so extraor- 
dinarily lucrative that it at once brought an immense accession of 
strength to the American side. Every mercantile firm in Boston, 
New York and other maritime towns, found it far more advantageous 
to invest its capital in arming the vessels it possessed and sending 
them out to prey upon British commerce, than to employ its ships 
in legitimate trade and run the risk of their eapture by English 
cruisers. Two strong national passions were gratified at the same 
time — patriotism and profit. Into the moralit3" of the proceeding 
the most strait-laced New England Puritan would have disdained to 
enter; the pleasure of whipping the tarnation Britisher and pocket- 
ing the almighty dollar carried the day. 

“You ’ll say, no doubt, that issuing letters of marque was nothing 
new, that privateers were always largely employed by England 
throughout our long war with Franee, and that even in this very 
American business we did the same as the Yankees. It’s not my in- 
tention to go in for strict morality on the subjeet, only I might say 
that our adoption of the measure was in self-defence. 

“Now I’ll get on with my story. Shortly after the war began, 
and while all the American shippers were working day and night at 
turning their merchant-men into privateers, and engaging all the 
likely, daring fellows of any nation whom they could induce to enter 
the service of the stars and stripes, a young English sailor came to 
Boston as second mate aboard a Liverpool ship. She had left about 
a week before the war broke out, had made a rough passage which 
had delayed her a fortnight past her time, had spoken no vessel on 
the way, and quietly sailing into Boston harbor, in perfect ignor- 
ance of her danger, was taken just outside the port. Her officers 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE, 


163 


and crew, in place of having a jollification ashore, only landed to 
become inmates of a prison. 

“ The American service, as no doubt you’re aware, was largely re- 
cruited from the English ranks. The Liverpool ship was no sooner 
condemned as lawful prize than the shippers beset the men with 
tempting offers of high pay and a share of the profits if they would 
consent to become American subjects and serve in the privateers then 
fitting out to attack English commerce. Many refused, but a few — 
the most unscrupulous or daring — assented, and among these latter 
was the young second mate.” 

“Stop ! ” said Ralph Lee at this point, in a hoarse, unsteady voice. 
“What was the second mate’s name? ” 

Oliver looked at his companion. He saw that though his swarthy 
face was blanched and his eyes were shaded by his hand, yet that 
they shone forth from under the shelter like glowing coals. 

“I hardly know,” was Oliver’s reply, “the name he then bore, but 
it’s of little consequence, as I imagine it was not his own. He was 
only known to my informant some months after. At that time he 
was called Richard Blackstock. Did you ever hear of such a person 
Captain Lee ? ” 

And the young man looked steadily in his companion’s face. 
Ralph turned aside, muttered a few unintelligible words, one ol 
which sounded extremely like a curse, then signed Oliver to proceed. 

“Richard Blackstock then abjured his country, cast off, as he 
thought, his allegiance to the British Crown, took the oath of fidel- 
ity to the United States, and shipped aboard the Asa Trenchardy to 
serve against Great Britain. The privateer was one of a fleet of six 
fitted out by the great Boston firm of Bracebridge, Trenchard & Co., 
with letters of marque. Young Blackstock, a daring, active fellow 
and a capital seaman, sailed with the ship as first mate, and a 
promise of speedy promotion to an independent command if found 
deserving. 

“The first cruise of the Asa Trenchard, I am told, turned out a 
great success. After a short absence of about three months, she 
came into port with a couple of valuable prizes. The richer of these 
— a large East Indiaman, laden with tea, silks and indigo — she had 
intercepted off the coast of Cornwall, almost within sight of home. 
The Captain, being part owner, and intending this perilous trip to be 
his last voyage, was seized with despair when the privateersmen ca me 


164 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


on board, rushed down to his cabin and blew out his brains. The pas- 
sengers, old Indian officers, mostly, who had grown both grey and 
wealthy in the Company’s service, and were returning to pass the 
remainder of their days in their native land, were hurried off into 
captivity. The English house to which the Indiaman belonged, 
upon receiving the news of her capture, was unable to meet its en- 
gagements and went into the Gazette, dragging down some score of 
other mercantile houses in its ruin. How many families were 
plunged into hopeless penury, how many projected marriages broken 
off, how many promising careers frustrated by the loss of that single 
Indiaman it would be difficult to sa 3 ^ Multiply this one case by 
hundreds of others, and you will form some faint idea of the miser" 
ies and wretchedness caused by war.” 

‘‘You’re moral, young Oliver,” growled Ralph Lee at this point, 
mopping his forehead with his handkerchief. ‘‘Does your wisdom 
fancy it can re-model the world ? ” 

“By no means,” returned Blande, gravely. “But I shouldn’t like 
to have upon my conscience — elastic as it may be — all that must 
weigh on his who caused such woe. That man was Richard Black- 
stock. This was the beginning of his terrible career. Thecaptureol 
the Indiaman was mainly brought about by him. For the captain 
of the Asa Trenchard, being given to drinking, the first mate took 
temporary command of the ship while his commander was snoring 
the drunkard’s heavy sleep. It was by him that the keenest-sighted 
lookout in the privateer was stationed in the fore-chains to peer 
through the fog; it was he who, by adaringmanoeuvrecutoff the In- 
diaman while striving to escape; it was he who was the first to 
spring on board and dash the feeble resistance of the passenger* to 
shivers; it was he who, with his own hand, clapped his captain in 
irons for neglect of duty ; lastly, it was he who, by his skill in sea- 
manship, brought his prizes in safety through the British cruisers, 
and carried them triumphantly into Boston harbor.” 

“And a gallant deed ’twas too!” cried Ralph Lee, starting 
excitedly to his feet. “A gallant deed done by a gallant fellow. All 
honor to him for his pluck and daring ! Here’s his jolly good health ! ” 

“ With all my heart I ” replied Oliver, imitating his example. “The 
health of Richard Blackstock 1 ” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


105 


CHAPTER XXV. 

OLIVER CONTINUES HIS STORY. 

‘^Notlimg in this world succeeds like success is an adage as old as 
the hills,” continued Blande. “Its correctness received additional 
proof in Richard Blackstock’s case.” 

“ Backed up as he was by so strong an argument as the captured 
East Indiaman, his employers received him with open arms. They 
fully approved his conduct, discharged their drunken captain the in- 
stant they had learnt his offence, and placed the first mate in com- 
mand of the privateer. 

“Up to this point much might be said in excuse of the part Black- 
stock had played. If he was so little influenced by patriotism as to 
fight against his countrymen, he did no more than hundreds of 
equally unscrupulous mercenaries have done in all ages and in every 
clime. The repartee of the wit when told he should live for the ben- 
efit of posterity might apply with equal force. As he replied “Where- 
fore ? What has posterity done for me ? ^ so Blackstock and those 
who acted as he did might exclaim : ‘ My skill and courage are my 
own. What has my country done for me that I should be debarred 
from selling them to the best advantage?’ I don’t say the argu- 
ment would hold water, but at any rate it is an argument, of a 
sort, and might do duty with some minds as an excuse. 

“I don’t believe, however, that Richard Blackstock ever troubled 
himself to consider whether excuse was needed for what he did. 
Enough in his eyes that the service he had entered offered precisely 
the prizes he valued most — high pay, abundant adventure, oppor- 
tunities for distinction. I am disposed to think so well of him that 
I don’t believe he was actuated by other motives than these 
when he foreswore his country. The temptation to which he suc- 
cumbed came afterwards, was not then dreampt of, arose before his 
soul on a sudden and made him it’s prey.” 

“Look you here, Blande,” interrupted Ralph, facing round upon 
the young man with a threatening look. “ Stow that kind o’ talk. 


166 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


Let’s have no moral reflections, or I shall lose my temper. I ’ll hear 
your story out, though where you picked it up I don’t know, nor 
what you ’re driving at in daring to tell the tale. I’ll hear you 
out I say; but I won’t stand your d — d affected virtue. So beware!” 

” Good,” returned Oliver, cheerfully. “I’ll not offend again, but 
be as brief as may be. Moral reflections are as little in my line as 
yours; I’m only too ready to cast them aside. 

“Promoted to the command of the Asa Trenchard^ Richard 
Blacks tock made several further cruises with more or less success. 
His owners were delighted with their new captain; his crew idolized 
a commander who filled their pockets with prize-money, and was 
never averse to giving them the chance of trying their strength against 
equal odds. Four times the Asa Trenchard sailed out of Boston 
harbor amid the eheers of its inhabitants, the ringing of bells, and 
the firing of jo3^-guns; four times she returned with rich English 
prizes in her wake and laden to the water’s edge with valuable 
spoils selected from the cargoes of other English vessels she had 
burnt. A fifth time she departed, amid the general expeetation of 
her speedy return. Little did the shouting speetators who watched 
her proudly sailing out of the harbor imagine they were never des- 
tined to see her again. 

“In this eruise, the privateer seemed at first to have been aban- 
doned by her usual suecess. Fiekle Fortune, tired of the favors she 
had eonferred, mounted her wheel, and rolled rapidly away. The 
Asa Trenchard had been out about a month, and had not taken a 
single prize. British vessels in plenty had been sighted, but on ap- 
proaeh had turned out such ugly-looking customers that Blackstoek 
had been glad to show them a elean pair of heels. Twice, nothing 
but the privateer’s superior speed and her captain’s skill had saved 
her from capture. Unaecustomed to failure, the men murmured as 
openly as they dared, and would have brol^n out into open mutiny, 
I am told, save for their fear of the pistols, ready capped and loaded, 
always in Riehard Blaekstoek’s belt. 

“One afternoon, shortly before sun-down, the men were eongrega- 
ted in sullen, moody groups about the deck. The eaptain paced 
the quarter, alternately sweeping the distant horrizon with his 
glass and turning a watehful eye upon his erew. On a sudden, the 
lookout in the fore top shouted: * A sail on the weather bow I ’ 

“ Blackstoek was instantly on the alert. The discontented faces 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE, 


167 


of the crew were illumined with a flash of hope, as sudden lightning 
rends a thunder-cloud. 

‘“Can you make her out? ’cried the captain, hailing the mast- 
head. ‘ What’s she like ? ’ 

“‘Square-rigged,’ returned the man. ‘Looks like a Britisher. 
She’s standing from us now, but we shall catch her. Keep away half 
a point. So! We shall overhaul her soon.’ 

“Ordering the men to quarters^ Blackstock quickly climbed to the 
lookout’s side and surveyed the stranger. 

‘“Come. Here’s a chance at last ! ’ the sailor heard him mutter. 
‘ A merchantman she is; that’s certain, but I’m not so sure of her 
being a Britisher. No matter I Be she what she may, she shall be 
mine 1 ’ ” 

“You seem confoundedly well informed, young Oliver!” broke in 
Ralph Lee, at this juncture with a sneer. “ You were n’t aboard the 
privateer, at any rate. I’ll swear. Where did you get these details ? ” 

“From somebody who was. Captain Lee,” returned Blande, 
quietly. “Have a little patience and you shall know all. 

“The Asa Trcnchard's rate of sailing being far superior to that of 
the merchant vessel, the latter was soon overtaken. When within 
speaking distance, the privateer ran up the stars and stripes, and 
fired a gun across the stranger’s bows. The answer to the challenge 
was immediate. A little ball was seen to run rapidly up the hal- 
liards, and, reaching the top, blew out into the well-known flag of 
Spain. 

“A groan of disappointment burst from the privateer’s crew. 
The captain’s swarthy face grew white with rage. 

‘“Stay a bit, my lads! ” he cried. ’Tis only one of John Bull’s 
tricks. We shall catch him yet. Send a boat aboard,’ he bellowed 
through his speaking-trumpet to the Spaniard, ‘ with the captain 
and ship’s papers, or I’ll give you a broadside! ” 

“ ‘5/, senor Capitano,^ (‘Yes, captain,’) was the instant reply. 

“The boat left the Spanish vessel’s side, and pulled towards the 
privateer 

“It was now getting rapidly dark. Night fell with the rapidity 
peculiar to tropical latitudes. When the Spanish boat came along- 
side the privateer, the captain ascended the side and was ushered 
into her cabin by the light of the ship’s lanterns. 

“What passed between Richard Blackstock and the Spanish com- 


:68 


ALBANV STARR^S REVENGE. 


mander no man wil^ever know. What did transpire was startling 
enough. In less than five minutes the sound of oaths and cries, ac- 
companied by the confused tumult of a deadly struggle, came rum- 
bling up the hatchway. Then followed a savage execration, then a 
pistol shot ; then all was still. 

“ The crew were still standing with scared and curious faces, peer- 
ing down the hatchway, when Richard Blackstock ran hastily up 
the stairs. 

“ ‘ Over the side, half a dozen of you, quick ! ’ he cried. ^ Bring up 
the boat’s crew, and heave ’em into the hold. Man our own boats, 
quietly, and follow me! If any resist, down with ’em.’ 

“In less time almost than it takes to say the words, a strong de- 
tachment of the privateer’s crew were in their boats, pulling lustily 
for the Spanish vessel. Within ten minutes they ran alongside, 
boarded her after a slight resistance, casting overboard or stabbing 
without mercy all by whom they were opposed, and took entire 
possession of the ship. 

“When the deed was accomplished, Richard Blackstock mustered 
his men, and addressed them in a lengthy speech. \V^ithout giving 
his exact words, it will be sufficient to say that he made the follow- 
ing projlosal. 

“They had seen enough of privateering to discoverits precarious 
nature. The service was not so lucrative as they had thought and 
had been told. Weeks, months might pass before they made a prize; 
when they did, who benefitted by their skill, their courage, and their 
daring? Why, their owners. Bracebridge, Trenchard and Co. sat at 
ease in their luxurious Boston mansions, while the men who earned 
for them the wealth they squandered slied their blood, risked their 
lives, for a mere pittance, out of all proportion to the danger tliey 
incurred. He asked his men to follow his lead and make sure of 
speedy fortune. Instead of simply taking British ships — which, as 
they saw, began to grow scarce; and would get scarcer the. longer 
the war lasted — let them pursue the course they had so well begun 
that night and capture merchant vessels under every flag. In the 
confusion of the war, their acts would long pass unnoticed, and 
before their real character was shown, sufficient riches to satisfy the 
most greedy would have been gained. 

“In plain terms and not to mince the matter further, Richard 
Blackstock proposed to his men to become pirates! 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


169 


**Led away by the seductive pictures his ready eloquence conjured 
up before their eyes — unscrupulous and reckless as the privateer’s- 
men of that day we^ rendered by their calling — aware that they 
had been hurried on to take a step, in capturing a neutral vessel, 
for which they were liable to be called to severe account, I can quite 
understand how the crew of the Asa Trenchard were easily induced 
to lend a ready assent to their captain’s proposition. 

“Determined at once to commit his men beyond the power of re- 
tracing their steps — so at least I interpret Blackstock’snext proceed- 
ing, for I do not believe him to be naturally cruel — the captain called 
up one by one the crew and passengers of the Spanish ship, asked 
them in stern, brief words whether they chose to enlist among the 
freebooters, turned those who refused adrift in one of theship’sboats 
to find their way to land as best they might, ordered those who as- 
sented to get ready their bags and prepare to leave the ship. 

“When all was finished, Blackstock had the Spanish vessel rum- 
aged from stem to stern, selected all the money and easily transport- 
able valuables he could find on board, ordered the carpenters to scut- 
tle the ship, and pulled off with his recruits and spoils for the pn- 
vateer. 

“Here much the same kind of scene was enacted as had taken 
place on board the prize, with the exception that Blackstock’s argu- 
ments were powerfully backed up by the booty already acquired. 
This turned the scale with the few whose consciences were more ten- 
der than the rest. All finally agreed to follow their commander 
heart and soul into the new career. 

“Carefully repainting the Asa Trenc/zard and making certain al- 
terations in her rig, which rendered her unrecognisable to any but a 
very practised professional eye, Blackstock set sail for the new 
cruising ground he had determined to take up. I ought to say — 
though perhaps it’s hardly necessary — that he had re-christened his 
ship and provided her with a new figuj;e-head. The name she now 
bore was the Warhawk, 

“ The new area of operations was the South American coast. Here 
the Warhawk was able to wayltiy ships of all nations passing, in 
full reliance for security upon their neutral character, between 
the New World and the Old. Richarrd Blackstock’s plan was daring 
and hazardous 4n the extreme, but, as siich, thoroughly suited to 
the man. Hardly another mind would have ventured to conceive 


170 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


such an idea. He not only conceived it, but, as it turns out, carried 
it into execution with perfect success. 

‘‘The method he generally pursued was tlHs: Little bloodshed, 
never more than absolutely essential to crush resistance. Partly his 
own dislike to unnecessary violence, partly the knowledge it would 
be impolitic to disgust his men, I take to have been his motives. He 
rarely destroyed a ship utterly, because he then became embarassed 
with the passengers and crew; but he would board, compel all to 
give up their money and valuables, cut down a mast or take away 
a portion of the rigging, so as to prevent pursuit. Now and then, 
when sure of an easy market to a purchaser who asked few ques- 
tions, he would dispose of an Engiish ship or cargo in an American 
port; but he never visited the same place upon the same errand twice. 
By degrees, as opportunity served, he weeded the faint-hearted or 
scrupulous out of his crew, making it worth the while of the men 
he discharged not to betray his proceedings. 

“ Some nine months, I am told, Richard Blackstock cruised in the 
Warhawk on his own account. At that date he encountered a check 
which my informant supposed, until to-day, had altogether ended 
his career. 

“The cleverest man on earth will sometimes be out-witted. How- 
ever cunning the fox, the day seldom fails to arrive when he finds the 
earth stopped and the baying hounds too close to be evaded. So it 
happened with the captain of the privateer. He did not reckon upon 
the frenzy of a frantic man’s despair. 

“The Warhawk had chased a Portuguese merchantman. The 
prize had been overtaken and boarded, and all resistance was be- 
lieved to be at an end. In accordance with his usual custom, 
Blackstock had eased the passengers of their valuables, and next pro 
ceeded to rifle the captain’s cabin. The man protested and 
opposed his entrance, calling all the saints in the calandar to 
witness nothing worth having was concealed. Blackstock — always 
quick and fiery — pushed the remonstrator aside with an oath and a 
hasty curse, and dashed in the door. The reason for the Portuguese 
captain’s resistance was then apparent. A handsome quadroon, 
young and richly dressed, threw herself at Blackstock ’s feet and 
with clasped hands begged for mercy. The girl was so beautiful, even 
in her despair and fear of outrage, that I can easily understand the 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


171 


Portuguese wishing to keep her from the prying eyes of his rough 
visitors. 

“To give him his due, the captain of the Warhawk was always 
kind to women ; too kind sometimes says my informant ; but that’s 
an amiable weakness, so we’ll let it pass. At any rate, he was very 
civil upon this occasion. He raised the terrified girl, mustered his 
best Portuguese to assure her she need be under no alarm, and tried 
to soothe her fears. Whether the wizened little Portuguese capfain 
was simply jealous or blundered into a misunderstanding of what 
had really been said, can never be known ; but at any rate he flew 
into a most furious passion. While Blackstock was still talking to 
the quadroon, he suddenly dashed at a locker, caught up a ship’s 
cutlass, sharper I suppose than the majority of those saw-like imple- 
ments, flew at the captain of the Warhawk in no way expecting the 
attack, and with a tremendous eflbrt cut Richard Blackstock down. 

“The noise of the scuffle and the shrieks of the quadroon brought 
in a few of the privateer’s men. They found their captain bathed in 
blood, senseless, inanimate, dead ! 

“The fate of the little Portuguese captain may easily be conjec- 
tured. In half a minute he was tossed through a port-hole, and in 
half a minute more he was shrieking inside a shark’s maw. 

“The loss of their captain — the head and brain, the life and soul 
— of their enterprise, utterly disconcerted the crew of the privateer. 
My informant tells me — has assured me, on his oath — he helped to 
sew up Richard Blackstock, dead, with a gaping wound that cleft 
his head asunder, in his hammock, placed a four pound shot at his 
feet, and assisted to launch the body into the deep. This last office, 
paid, the men took to their boats and abandoned the vessel. They 
dispersed upon landing, and few have ever met again. 

“You’ll agree with me, Captain Lee, that this is a very remarka- 
ble story,” concluded Oliver, “but to my thinking, the most re- 
markable part of the narrative remains to be told. My informant 
to-day, standing here, at the window in this very room, saw a man 
he declared to be Captain Richard Blackstock, cross the market- 
place. Yet he swears he saw that same man’s body sink beneath 
the waves. Still I believe my informant right in both his accounts. 
Is it in the power of Captain Lee to explain the mystery? This 
question must be answered before I proceed.” 

“It shall ! ” returned Ralph Lee. “ Your informant is quite correct 


172 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


Richard Blacks tock’s body was certainly cast overboard, but Rich- 
ard Blackstock was not therefore necessarily dead. There was the 
blunder. 

“Stunned by the cowardly attack of the Portuguese, the cold 
plunge into the sea at once revived him from the trance in which he 
had lain for hours, and restored him to consciousness. Luckily for 
hirq, the haste with which he had been placed in the hammock ren- 
dered it an easy task for a powerful man in the vigor of youth to 
disencumber himself of its folds. With a few strong efforts his hands 
were disengaged ; a couple of hearty kicks then freed his legs. Of a 
four pound shot there never was a trace, or Richard Blackstock 
would not have risen to the surface. 

“ And he did rise. He rose on the opposite side of the ship to that 
from which his cowardly rascals were makingtheirwa^^ to the shore. 
He caught a trailing rope, and hauled himself on board, to find he 
was the only inmate of the ship. 

“Left alone, he had ample leisure to reflect. These were the con- 
clusions at which he arrived. Fortune had favored him at last as 
she had never favored him before. By one lucky chance, he was at 
once freed from all his accomplices. All would be ready to swear he 
was at the bottom of the sea. To all intents and purposes, he was 
dead. 

“Good. He would avail himself of his death. No man should 
ever hear of Richard Blackstock more. 

“The rest of that day until night he occupied in preparing to sink 
the ship. The Warhawk and he would disappear together. Invested 
in a safe bank at New Orleans was the produce of his daring scheme, 
for he had been too wary to keep it in his own possession among 
such men as those he had employed. To New Orleans he would go ; 
wait in some secure retreat, for the conclusion of the war; then re- 
pair to a British colony, purchase a vessel, and trade thenceforward 
in security and peace. 

“All was duly carried out. At nightfall Richard Blackstock bade 
farewell to the Warhawk^ the instrument of his fortune, sure she 
could not float above an hour. He pulled himself ashore, had his 
burt dressed, then set out for New Orleans. 

“So far I have chosen to tell you in return for your remarkable 
story.’ I ask next — and min-d, young Oliver, I insist upon the truth! 
— ^not how you learnt its details, for I care little to be informed, but 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


173 


I ask, how, knowing what yon do, you dare to tell the tale to me! 
Your reason, Oliver Blande, before you stir from this room alive!’ 

Ralph Lee sprang from hrs seat as he spoke, and placed his pow- 
erful form before the door, barring all possible egress. 

Oliver looked at him steadily, then said with a laugh: “Resume 
your seat, my worthy host. You cannot be more anxious to hear 
than I am to tell.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

A PROPOSAL. 

must be clear to a man of Captain Lee’s ability.” commenced 
Oliver, looking his companion steadily in the face as he spoke, “ that 
he who knows what I have just related of the doings of Richard 
Blackstock, holds that person’s future to a great extent in his 
power.” 

“ If he can prove his statements, ” broke in Ralph, abruptly. “Other- 
wise he’s a mere slanderer and backbiter, a calumniator, a liar, open 
to chastisement and exposure. That’s all.” 

“If he can prove what he asserts to be true,” repeated Oliver, nod- 
ding, “he holds Blackstock’s character, reputation, possibly indeed ’’ 
(here his voice sank to a steirn whisper) “his life in his power. What 
say you?” 

“Nothing yet. Goon.” 

“Two courses are open to him who has gained the knowledge I 
ave described. He may deliver up into the hands of justice the man 
who has re-enacted the exploits of the old buccaneers, the man whom 
all civilized nations would combine to hunt down as an enemy to the 
human race, the man who not only bore arms against his country- 
men, but who despoiled the general commerce of the world for his 
own private advantage. Should he do this; should he — as he as- 
suredly can — substantiate by evidence that such deeds as those of 


174 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


Richard Blackstock have been done by any living man, what, think 
yon, Captain Lee, would be that man’s fate? Shall I tell you ? ” 

“Goon, goon. My turn will come.^ 

Oliver bent forward, laid his hand on his companion’s knee, and 
continued in an impressive whisper : 

“ Death would be his fate. Death, by the hands of the common 
hangman, would overtake his body ; confiscation of his ill-earned 
wealth for the benefit of tlipse he plundered would follow; the execra- 
tion and the curses of the universe be heaped upon his memory. Yet 
with its usual injusti<;e,the world would inflict the least punishment 
upon the guiltiest offender. His relatives would inherit poverty, 
obloquy, and degradation, the sneers and undisguised contempt ( f 
the world, which would never pardon their connection with one so 
vile. Richard Blackstock’s fate would be happiness compared with 
the awful punishment of the innocent victims he would leave behind.” 

“It would have to be proved, I say,” answered Ralph, in an im- 
patient voice, harsh and broken by the evident effort he was putting 

upon himself to restrain his fur3^ “Death and d n, it would 

have to be proved. Go on, go on. There’s more to come.” 

“The course I indicate is that a rigid, straight-laced moralist 
would probably pursue,” resumed Oliver. “Such persons are rarely 
men of the world, and don’t know how to make allowances. Now, 
I do. I can quite understand how Blackstock was carried away by 
the splendid prospect a hasty act laid bare before him. I think he 
was rash, I think he was imprudent, and what has now happened 
shows I’m right. After so many years have passed, that he might 
fairly imagine all chance of detection was at an end, his secret is in 
my possession and that of another.” 

He paused. Ralph offered no remark, but sat still, glaring upon 
him with heaving breast, clenched teeth, and fiery eye. The outbreak 
of the tempest was still repressed, but the growlingthunder muttered 
low on the horizon, and Oliver felt the fury of the tornado would n( 
be long delayed. He hastened to anticipate its burst. 

“As I said, I am a man of the world. Being such, I should take a 
different line to that I have pointed out. I should offer a compro- 
mise. I should say, for instance, to Richard Blackstock — were I 
brought face to face with him, as I am with you now — I should say: 
Let us strike a bargain. I possess a secret it would be very injurious 
to you — putting it delicately, you see — to have disclosed. You pos- 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


175 


sess something, of no particular use to you, which I especially desire 
to have. Make an exchange. Give me that something — which by 
the way yougimust in all probability part with to somebody some 
day, therefore why not now to me? — in return for my promise never 
to reveal your secret, and we shall both be gainers. We shall both 
give something, we shall both receive something, we shall both be 
satisfied. Should n’t you now — supposing yourself in Blackstock’s 
position — consider that an acceptable offer? ” 

Oli^'er threw himself back in his chair with the air of a man who 
has considerably relieved his mind. Ralph Lee rubbed his forehead 
thoughtfully, and glanced at the young man furtively from under his 
hand. 

^‘All would depend,” he said, after a lengthened pause, “upon 
what was demanded in exchange for this precious secret of which 
you make so much. It might be so valuable as to render life not 
worth keeping after its loss. It might be goods or land’, it might 
be money, it might be half of all this Richard Blackstock’s fortune. 
I can’t give an opinion until I know what you ask.” 

“ I should ask, in return for keeping this dangerous secret, Richard 
Blackstock’s daughter to wife, with a sufficient dowry,” replied 
Oliver, slowly and emphatically. 

Ralph Lee affected to start, though the keen observer before him 
saw an expression of relief dawm into his face. Conj^ciousthathe was 
narrowly watched, Ralph hesitated several minutes before replying. 
That pause was perhaps the most painful interval Oliver had ever 
endured. So much w'as at stake in the few words he had just uttered, 
such momentous issuer to his future life were involved in the pros- 
pect of his getting free of Stark, that no despairing gambler who has 
hazarded his last coin upon the cast of the die hovering in the air 
ever felt a greater fluttering at the heart than he. 

“Your terms are high, yet not perhaps to be refused. At least 
were I in Blackstock’s place — as you put it just now — I should think 
they certainly deserved to be weighed. But let me ask a question. 
How could you, so severely virtuous upon this man’s presumed 
crimes, bear to ally yourself with such a tainted source ? How could 
a pirate’s daughter be a fitting spouse for the high-minded, well-born 
gentleman ? Or would the fortune she might bring stiffice to wipe 
out in your accommodating mind all stain upon her origin ? This is 
a mystery I should like to have explained ? ” 


176 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


The faintly-hidden sneer with which he spoke was galling to 
Oliver’s pride, but he felt resentment would be unwise. It was much, 
very much, to have gone as far as he had without finding his offer 
scornfully refused. For, after all, he knew his menace of exposure 
was nothing but a threat he could not dare to have fulfilled. He 
built however upon Ralph’s ignorance of his position, and from that 
foundation raised his edihce a story higher. 

“It would be easy to answer your questions,” he replied, “but I’ll 
not do so yet. Further than this. One more insensible than I could 
not have passed so much time as I have of late in the lady’s society, 
and fail to be captivated by her many charms. To love therefore 
you may set down one reason for my offer. Another is the strong 
liking I have taken to the hero of my narrative. Believing 
him to be above ordinary prejudices, I make a proposal which places 
him in perfect safety. It’s only fair, I take it. that I should have 
some little benefit in return.” 

“ Hm !” returned Ralph Lee, reflectively, “that sounds straight, 
forward, yet I fancy somehow there’s another cause behind. Harkye, 
young Oliver, you’ve some faint idea what I can do when I’m roused ; 
but I tell you, lad, if ever I discover you’ve been playing me false, 
keeping back anything I ought to know, the hourin which I find it out 
will be your last, if I blow my own brains out the second after. So 
beware !’' 

Though no coward, it was impossible for Oliver, knowing how 
be was playing upon the sailor’s fears, to hear this menace, from so 
desperate a man, without a shudder. Yet he disguised his tremor, 
and answered on the instant, with the air of injured innocence ho 
knew so well how to assume. 

“ Hark you in turn, my worthy host. Threats never frighten me, 
though backed up by the blackest of black looks and the biggest of 
big words. I should have thought, under the circumstances, the 
proposal I make was not to be despised. I offer thorough immunity 
from such a danger as has now arisen ; I make it my own interest, 
by the strongest tie man can create, to guard against the faintest 
chance of future peril ; I don’t expect to be met with a kick as to a 
troublesome dog, and a warning to quit the premises before I’m 
turned out. I ask to be met in the same spirit as I come; frank, free, 
open, hearty acceptance, or undisguised, plain, blunt refusal. Which 
isjt to be— peace or war, salvation or ruin ? I ask you, whom 1 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


177 


know can tell me ^ which would be Richard Blackstock’s answer?” 

“And I reply, I must have time to consider,” retorted Ralph, 
sternly. “Be you content with that. Remember also this: save 
yourself, not another man breathes upon the earth who could have 
said one-half what you have said to-night, and 3^et would leave this 
room unharmed. Go now, at once, before mischief comes of it. No, 
no; I'll hear no more,” he rejoined, waving his hand impatiently as 
Oliver strove to speak, “or, if you will still chatter, talk to this!” 

In a second, before Oliver had the slightest inkling of his meaning, 
he was across the floor with one enormous stride. His strong left 
hand grasped the young man’s naked throat, his brawny fingers 
griping the flesh with a clutch that made the room reel round before 
the assailed man’s e^^es, and sheets of fire flash before his startled 
gaze. A cold steel ring — the muzzle of a pistol — was pressed hard 
against his temple, and Ralph’s voice, hoarse with suppressed pas- 
sion, hissed the terrible words into his ear: 

“One touch upon the trigger, and 't will be out of your power to 
betray me. Your soul will have left the world, before the report 
reaches your body’s ears I ” 

It was a lucky thing for Oliver Blande that nature had not for- 
gotten in his composition the article of nerves. He stood up boldly 
and erect under the fiery gaze that searched his features for a sign of 
the apprehension they did not show ; he never blanched nor quailed 
for an instant while Death and Passion stood before him and flashed 
their flaming eyes into his soul. 

Apparently satisfied with the trial, Ralph Lee relaxed his hold. 

“Next time j'ou venture into the tiger’s den, young Oliver,” he 
growled, “be sure you’ve drawn his teeth and pared his claws. But 
I’m glad to see you’re no coward. The man must have heart of iron 
and nerves of steel who mates with the daughter of Richard Black- 
stock.” 


12 


178 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

TEMPTATION. 

‘‘If you’re now satisfied I’m your old captain in the flesh, Riggs, 
and not his ghost, I’ll thank you to answer a question or two, d ye 
hear? Don’t stand staring there, like a tarnation landlubber, man. 
Speak up, sharp and to the purpose — d — n it, will ye ? ” 

“Ay, ay, Cap’n Blackstock,” muttered the Yankee, in a low, be- 
wildered tone, mechanically lugging at his forelock. 

His eyes wandered up and down his old commander’s face, as if 
trying to trace in that tanned and swarthy visage the fresh and 
round, though sunburnt features of a quarter of a century ago. 

“Stow that, blockhead !’’ roared irascible Ralph Lee, pounding 
the table furiously with his fist. “Never speak, never dream that 
name. Forget you ever heard it. Richard Blackstock is dead, I 
tell you, and you saw him die. Recollect I’m an old shipmate; ’t is 
years since we met, but now — as then — you know me only as Ralph 
Lee. D’ye hear?” 

“Ay, ay, sir.” 

“Now answer what I ask. How long have you known this 
youngster?” 

“What youngster, Cap’n?” 

“What youngster! Why, this d d, intrusive cock-sparrow, 

who takes so warm an interest in my affairs — curse him ! — for the 
sake of making his market of what he’s somehow managed to pick 
up. Dod-rot the hypocritical skunk ! ’T was as much as I could do 
to keep from twistifig his neck as he sat. You know who I mean, 
idiot! — this blasted Oliver Blande! How long have you known 
him ? ” 

The fury Ralph had thought it wise to keep controlled in Oliver’s 
presence burst out into a raging storm of words before his old accom- 
plice. Had he not given some vent to his abuse, he must have choked 
with passion. 

“I’ve knowed him, Cap’n, off an’ on, mebbe a matter o’ seven year,” 
was the Yankee’s tardy answer. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 179 

, “ What d^ye mean by off and onf Speak out, I say, plainly and 
clear.” 

“Wall, I means to say ’t is thereabouts since I first clapped eye# 
on his phiz, Cap. Ay, an’ when I did, what d’ye think ’t was med 
me take a likin’ to the lad ? You won’t guess. I’ll swear.” 

“ Out with it quick ! ” 

“His ’strornary likeness. Cap, to you. Ses I ter my messmate I 
ses: ‘Strike me curous. Bill,’ ses I, ‘ef yon young chap arn’t the very 
spit o’ my old dead-an’-gone cap’n,’ I ses, ‘as I sailed with nigh on 
twenty year agone.’ ‘Twor down in the Docks I see’d young Oliver 
fust, an’ ’t would ha’ been better for me, mayhap, I’d never sot eyes 
on him at all.” 

“Why?” 

Riggs hesitated. “Wall, Cap,” he said at last, slowly, “I o-pine 
as how that ere can’t jist be o’ pertickler interest, an’ I’d kinder 
rayther keep the reason to myself, if you don’t mind.” 

“But I do,” returned Ralph, angrily. “I’ve most important 
reasons for wanting to know everything that can be learnt about 
this youngster. Speak out, man; don’t be afraid. I’ll make it worth 
your while. 

He drew forth a well-filled purse, emptied into his broad hand 
without counting a number of gold pieces, and forced them upon the 
not unwilling Riggs. Still the Yankee unaccountably held back. 

“ Yer see, Cap’n Black — Lee, I means — thof so be I’m now only-a 
common sailor, I come o’ decent folks, I deu, an’ I wor bred to the 
lor. But my old man down toe Salem kep’ too tight a hand over 
me, bein’ a spriky young ch^, fond of his glass an’ his lass, an’ I 
rund away to sea.” 

“ Confound your biography ! ” roared passionate Ralph. “ What 
the deuce has that to do with the matter ? Tell me at once why you 
regret ever having known this Blande.” 

“Wall, arn’t I a goin teu ? jist give a coon time. Bein’ bred to the 
lor, yer see. Cap, I’ve got two or three o’ them dusty old cobwebby 
notions bangin’ about my memory still. One on ’em I reklect is as 
no man arn’t bound teu criminate hisself. D’ye twig. Cap? Wall, 
that’s why I arn’t just free to tell the reason.” 

“Look here, my man,” returned Ralph Lee, sternly. “’Tis clear 
to me you’ve got certain information — whatever it be — that I must 


180 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


and will have. Now suppose I can show you ’ t will be more to your 
interest to speak than to hold your tongue. How then ? ” 

“NatVally in course then, I mought or I mough t’nt, as’t happened 
to fit,” was the not very explicit answer. 

‘‘You mean you’d speak, I suppose?” demanded Ralph. 

Riggs nodded cautiously. 

“Then look here again. I gather from what you’ve already said 
that Blande has a hold over you, you’re afraid he would use if he’d 
discover you’d told me anything. Is that the case? ” 

“Wall, ’tis and ’tarn’t, jist as you like to take it. Cap.” 

“What do you mean ? ” 

‘•Somebody’s got a hold he might make use on, but ’tarn’t Cap- 
tain Blande.” 

“ Somebody ! Who ? Any one with whom Blande is connected ? ” 

Another nod. 

Ralph pondered. Matters were growing complicated. The plot 
seemed to thicken. He felt more than ever determined to probe the 
mystery to the quick. 

“What is the nature of this hold that somebody has over you? 
You can tell that, at least ? ” 

Riggs pursed up his lips and shook his head with a cunning leer. 
The vague remnants of his legal training warned him that silence 
was less dangerous than speech until he saw his questioner’s drift. 

“Can, but won’t,” thought Ralph. “No matter; I’ll have it out 
of him presently.” 

He resumed. “You don’t like to say, but of course I’m at liber- 
ty to guess. You ’ve committed some crime, which places you in 
this man’s power. Don’t deny it; I see you have. You’ve robbed, 
or forged, or swindled, or — as I think more likely, from what I 
recollect of your habits — you’ve hit some enemy harder than was 
prudent. They call that Murder here! ” 

“By thunder you ’re wrong then, Cap!” cried Riggs, exultingly, 
losing sight of his caution. “’Twor ony a bag o’ money I lost, 
down Wapping, among the gals, but Lawyer Stark declared I’d 
lushed the rhino. As if I’d be such a goney ! ” 

He stopped in clumsy confusion. Ralph quietly took up the 
word. ' 

“You lost trust- money, then. Well, that’s embezzlement; the 
penalty transportation. Good. Stark is the somebody connected 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


181 


with Blande. The facts are coming out. We’ll take Stark pres- 
ently.” 

Riggs fell upon his knees in dismay, and held up his hands 
imploringly. 

‘‘Don’t take advantage o’ what I let slip, Cap! For Christ’s sake 
don’t ruin a poor devil! If Stark should ever kim to hear on it, I’m 
lost an’ done for. You don’t know what he is. Don’t be hard on an 
old shipmet. Cap ; spare a poor broken-down man ! ” 

“Get up, and don’t be frightened, man,” said Ralph, with a slight 
inflection of contempt in his voice. “Yourj secret’s safe with me. 

I never betray any man, but I take revenge on those who try to be- 
tray me. Now answer further; truly, mind, — straight out, plain 
and clear. Who is this Stark ? ” 

“A lawyer up toe Lunnon ; lives in Clement’s Inn. Folks call him 
a lawyer, that’s toe say. Cap, but if the father o’ everlastin’liesevei 
tuk human shape, durned if I don’t think it’s in him.” 

“Man or devil, he shall be hunted out. What is his connexion 
with young Blande?” 

“ ’Tis my opinion. Cap, as Lawyer Stark’s got some kind o’ hold 
on him as well as me. Anyhow, he’s what you may call Stark’s pri- 
vate confidential agent. Does sich dirty work as air too high for 
common folk. Gets information, traps spoony swells, hunts up evi- 
dence, specially when there’s tin to be got for keepin ugly matters 
dark.” 

Ralph gave a prolonged whistle. “So what the skunk told me 
about his* uncle and purchasing an estate’s all moonshine!” he 
thought. “ What’s his real business down here then — Blande’s I 
mean ? D’ye know ? ” 

“Wall, Cap, I’ve an idea, but arn’t just quite clear. Yer see, that 
ere durned Stark’s as cunnin’ as a fox an’ close as wax.” 

“Out with it. What’s your idea! ” 

“ It’s my idea, but mind I won’t swear I’m right, but it’s my idea 
as how Lawyer Stark sent the Cap’n down here to look after 3^ou ! ” 
Ralph Lee fell back in his chair as if shot, and gazed at the Yan- 
kee with open-mouthed dismay. Perhaps in all the course of his 
varied life he had never been taken so utterly by surprise. Phan- 
toms of past evil deeds rose up before his mind, striking home even 
to his hardened heart the truth that retribution, though long de- 
layed and slow of foot, seldom fails to overtake the wicked man at 


182 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


last* As the poor drowning wretch, when hope is gone, and the 
green, gurgling waters clOvSe above his head with hollow moan, sees 
all his bygone acts flash in an instant past his mental view, so did 
the startled conscience of this unscrupulous freebooter show him in 
fancy a hicfeous procession of all the victims upon whom he had 
l^reyed, pointing at him with gibbering grin and skinny finger, 
rejoicing in spirit over his approaching fall. For once in his life, the 
hard and merciless plunderer really knew fear. 

But for a moment only. As the soldier, sleeping soundly after a 
hard day’s battle, is roused on a .sudden by the sentry’s signal of 
the coming foe, so did this practiced fighter, whose life had been one 
long and constant struggle against his fellow men, brace all his en- 
ergies together to repel the threatening danger. 

Still, he had more to learn. He knew, it is true, from whom to 
await attack, but was still ignorant in what quarter to expect the 
blow. So much of the life that lay behind him was open to assault, 
that it was impossible, without examining Riggs further, to ascer- 
tain what part of his defences must at once be manned. His first 
necessity was to convert the Yankee into a trustworthy ally. 

Ordering up more drink, Ralph pressed his former shipmate to 
take the chair vacated by Oliver a short time back, for Riggs had 
been standing hitherto ; gave him half a dozen of his own par- 
ticular cigars, and bade him make himself thoroughly comfortable 
and at home. 

“Now, Riggs, my man,” he re-commenced, presently, “I won’t 
deny that what you’ve told me startled me a bit at first. I think 1 
see my way out of the difficulty now. But I find I shall want your 
help. Stay! Don’t speak yet. I’ll make it your interest to stand 
by me in this matter. Serve me faithfully in what I shall tell you, 
and your future shall be passed in ease and comfort. What d ’ye 
say ? ” 

One of this man’s most dangerous weapons was a blunt and 
hearty bonhommie, with which he knew how to bend an inferior in- 
tellect to his. Few charms are more difficult to resist than the at- 
traction of apparent candor. Pity that as we advance in life, as 
the hard teachings of the selfish, hollow world brush the bloom 
from the flower of youthful credulity, we find words, mere words, 
unreliable as sand. Woe unto him who builds his house upon that 
frail and insecure foundation! Tempests arise; winds blow, and 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


183 


waters beat; the edifice is swept tracelessly away. Trust not to 
words till verified by acts — the positive tests of sincerity and truth. 

Had Riggs been commonly prudent, he would have seen and 
avoided the snare. The meshes were around him now; he could 
onl)’ feebly struggle and succumb. • Knowing what he did of Ralph 
Lee, he should have shunned the man as he would have fled from 
pestilence. But his curiosity had been strongly roused by seeing 
Oliver and Ralph pass into the tavern, while he was loitering in, 
the bar. When Oliver left, he had gone up of his’ own accord, and 
recalling himself to his old commander’s memory, had asked for ex- 
planation of the way in which he had escaped. That given, the 
conversation you have just read followed. The Yankee now began 
to regret his folly. 

“I’m afeard I cam’t be o’ no use. Cap,” he answered after a hes- 
itating pause. “Don’t see my way clear at all. Besides, I’m under 
Cap’n Blande’s orders, an’ I dursn’t go agin him.” 

“I’ll make it worth your while, I tell you,” pursued the tempter. 
“Besides, there’s another reason which we’ll come to presently. I 
saw at once, the moment you entered the room, where Blande 
picked up the story about the Warhawk. You told him, of course ?” 

“Wall, Cap, I won’t say but what I mought ha’ gin him a notion 
’bout the old time, but what wor I to do ? ’Twor him as browt me 
here an’ bade me say if I’d ever seen you afore. I wer that thunder- 
in’ knocked all on a heap when I see m3" old kimmander that I let 
out the hull consam. Burned sorry. Cap, but it cam’t be helped 
now.” . 

“Imprudent, Riggs, ver3^ imprudent; but, as you say, it can’t be 
helped. So Blande brought you here to try and recognize me, did 
he ? That’s curious, too. I should like to hear all about it, if you’ll 
tell me. Try another cigar.” 

Easily, gently, and by slow degrees, Ralph succeeded in extract- 
ing from Riggs — almost unconsciously, so adroitly was the process 
carried on — the events of the forenoon, and in learning also that he 
had been sent down by Stark at Oliver’s special request. Ralph gov- 
erned his features so well that the chatterer, softening under the 
combined influences of tobacco and grog, was led on to tell all, or 
nearl3" all, he really knew of Oliver’s object in coming to Lynn. It 
was not much, but quite sufficient to harden into adamant the pur- 
pose Ralph had already conceived. “Now, Riggs,” he exclaimed 


184 


ALBANY STARK^S REVmGB. 


sharply, turning a stern and rigid face upon the Yankee when all 
was told, “it’s time I should tell you what I want done. This 
spy — this sneaking, evidence-hunting cur, this Blande, must be 
removed ! And he must be removed by you ! ” 

“Thunder, Cap! cried the startled Yankee, staggering to his feet, 
“You’re not in airnest, sure — ly!” 

Ralph laid his heavy hand upon the sailor’s arm, and pushed him 
once more into his seat. 

“In bitter certain earnest,” he replied, between his clenched teeth. 
“ He must be put out of the way. I’ll speak plainer if you like. He 
must be ” 

“Stop, stop!” exclaimed the sailor, trjdng vainly to rise. “For 
God’s sake let me free. I carn’t hear any more; I durstn’t. Cap, I 
won’t!” 

“Fool!” hissed his companion. “You have already heard too 
much or not enough. This fellow shall be silenced, I say, and 
by your hand. Sit down, and listen. 

“You must either be with me or against me. I’ll show you which 
is your true interest in a moment. Take the first case. Through 
your blabbing, Blande knows the whole affair of the Warhawk, At 
present he will keep the secret, but not for long. If left unharmed, 
he carries it to his employer. Stark. The clue once given, scores, 
hundreds of people could be hunted up even at this distance of time, 
to swear to the identity of Richard Black stock. What mercy do 
you think he could expect? Not an iota — not a tittle. Death 
would be his fate — death to himself and all by whom he was 
abetted, including Abiah Riggs. Blande removed, on the other hand, 
we are both safe. 

“ Take case the second. You go against me, turn king’s evidence, 
support Blande’s story. Do you fancy I would let you escape? 
Never! Sooner than you should live to boast your share in bring- 
ing the famous pirate to the gallows, I’d confess all, implicate you, 
depict you in the blackest colors man was ever painted, swear you 
were the instigator of the worst that happened. Do you see safety 
that way? Not a jot. 

“I return to my proposal. You shall have the opportunity, the 
means, of doing my bidding safely and without discovery. Freight- 
ing my yacht as for a distant voyage. I’ll carry 3"ou away the in- 
stant the deed is done, and place you safely aboard an American or 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


185 


Australian ship. Ten thousand pounds shall be paid in your name 
to any bank in New York, Boston, Sydney, or wherever you please, 
the day we part; a handsome competence shall be secured to you so 
long as 3^ou live. You will be free of Stark, who can never trace 
YOU when we cut off every clue, you will be rich, can indulge in every 
wish and every fancy you will be safe from any fear of the past ever 
rising to confront you with its terrors. 

“Now will you hesitate? Remember there is no evading the 
question ; no subterfuge will serve. With me, or against me? That 
is all I ask, but answer, instant and truthful, I will have.’^ 

Sobered by the vehemence, stern and self contained but not less 
terrible, of his interrogator, bewildered by the pitiless, unyielding 
logic with which Ralph’s keen brain sundered the arguments favor- 
able to his position from those which made against it, and heaped 
them one after another upon his reeling senses ; dazzled by the pros- 
pect of freedom and independence last held out: — is it astonishing 
that, after a few feeble efforts to evade the gigantic antagonist who 
held him in his mental grasp as securely as a pigeon is clutched by 
the talons of a hawk, the luckless Yankee gave up the struggle, and 
consented to be guided by the master-mind ? 

• The two sat late into the night, discussing all the details of their 
shameful scheme. 

Reaching The Towers, Ralph could not deny himself the satisfac- 
tion of going out into the garden behind the house, and gazing up at 
unconscious Oliver’s window. 

“What did I tell that scoundrel to-night ? ” he muttered, vengefully 
shaking his fist at the shadow of the light upon the blind. “‘He 
who ventures into the tiger’s den, should first draw his teeth and 
pare his claws.’ Rascal! — sneak! — informer! — eavesdropper! — 
spy! Your power of mischief shall be speedily stopped! 


L86 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


AN orphan’s history. 

It is refreshing to turn from the ugly * plots of the precious couple 
we have just left, to the quiet peace and more agreeable picture of 
the re-united family at the Grange. 

Since the reconciliation between the elder Blythe and his son, per- 
fect concord reigned. Its continuance was ensured,partly by the re- 
newed affection that had sprung up between the men, partly by the 
happy terms upon which all lived with their new inmate, Alice 
Mayne. From her pleasant presence, strife and discord took unto 
themselves wings and flew away. 

In the journey through life most of us have met with people— and 
that not so rarely as the effete, used-up cynic would have us belie v^e 
— who possess by intuition the happy knack of making all about 
them feel at ease. To these fortunate persons the most exquisite 
tact seems native. The right word is always spoken in the right 
place, the right thing invariably done at the right time, easily, spon- 
taneously, without effort. Like poetry, the faculty must be born 
with its possessor. It is not to be acquired by study or practice. 
An imitation may be produced, as little resembling the genuine arti- 
cle as the bright gloss of new veneer is like the deep rich glow on old 
mahogony, but equally liable to peel ofl and show the cross-grained 
nature underneath when tried by the test of time or exposed to the 
heat of passion. 

Tjie quality is not confined to rank or station. It may be pos- 
sessed by the fish-fag as easily as by the Duchess, just as 
the one may be a gentlewoman at heart though deficient in polish, 
and the other a hard and merciless tyrant, hiding iron claws 
under a velvet glove. By whomsoever held, it always commands 
adorers. Coupled with beauty, it sends men to court death in his 
most hideous shapes as gaily as they go to banquet or to dance. This 
gracious, happ3", kindly nature it must have been, I think, that has 
characterized the women of every age whose memory history has 
handed down to us as emphatically good. For, as the lovliest pict- 


ALBANY STAKK^S REVENGE, 


187 


ures are usually those which reproduce God’s work on nature’s 
smiling face with the utmost fidelity to truth, so are the most 
charming women those who spend their lives in the endeavor — each 
in her allotted sphere — to spread happy cheerfulness throughout the 
world. 

Such was the disposition of Alice Mayne. While, as you have 
seen in her interview with self-sufficient Nat, she could repel imper- 
tinence with a dignity that made the offender shrink morally into a 
nutshell and skulk discomfited away ; it was her nature to be trust- 
ful, affectionate, and cheerful towards those she believed in and 
loved. And she soon learned to feel both liking for and confidence 
in the companions with whom her lot was cast at the Grange. 

Yes, even towards moody Edward Blythe. For a fresh revolu- 
tion was taking place in this man’s mind. To what cause it should 
be ascribed is very difficult to say, but for some occult reason — 
whose springs were probably unknown even to himself— he was 
gradually drawing clear of the mean and sordid money getting aims 
which had engrossed his spirit as prosperity increased, and was 
becoming more like the honest, simple-hearted, manly fellow he was 
when we learnt to know him first. Whether association with an 
innocent, unspoiled, noble mind, like that of Alice ; whether the un- 
expected but not less delightful reconciliation with the son whom, 
spite of their estrangement, he had always dearly loved; whether 
penitence for the irreparable injury he had done his ever faithful wife, 
and anxiety to atone by such means as stood at his command— 
whether any of these causes singly, or all of them combined, pro- 
duced the miracle of softening a heart long given up to the worst 
and most petrifying of human errors — the lust of amassing money— 
is be^^ond my feeble skill to unerringly tell. No man can read his bro- 
ther’s soul ; no man who has emerged from the furnace unscathed is 
entitled to blame the weakling whose will melted for a season in the 
fierce glow of temptation’s blaze. For who shall be certain of him- 
self for an hour ? 

But it is a hard matt^ to tear up roots that have been striking 
deep into the soil for years. You may kill your upas-tree by tearing 
off bark, letting out sap, cutting off branches, hewing down the 
stem, but the roots will long remain to poison £ind cumber the 
ground. Though hidden beneath the surface, their deadly influence 
is not less felt than if the parent tree still reared its blighting head 


188 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


to blast surrounding life. The tiniest fibre must be dislodged before 
sufficient health can be restored to the earth to let her nourish sound 
and vigorous growth. 

Equal difficulty was felt by Edward Blythe in rooting out every 
vestige of his ancient and long-standing sin. Every expense arising 
out of Annis’s helpless condition was borne cheerfully and without 
a murmer, but he winced at times, when kind-hearted Will, as a 
matter of course, did some little bit of charity towards a sick labor- 
er’s family in which his careful father saw no prospect of immediate 
or profitable return. Still, Edward Blythe was reforming. The 
hard crusts about his heart were breaking up ; the upas-roots were 
being extracted ; the ground was preparing to bear a better and 
more humanising crop. 

Between Annis and Will and Alice Mayne, relations had been, from 
the very commencement, established upon the most agreeable foot- 
ing. Bashful Will had already got so far with their new inmate as 
to have told her, confidentially, that though horribly jealous of giv- 
inghis mother up to her at first, he was now nearly reconciled to the 
sacrifice. Alice had answered, merrily, that she made up her mind 
to supplant him in the family circle altogether, and that the sooner 
he emigrated, or married, or did something equally desperate the 
better. Annis, as accorded with her gentle nature, treated her young 
companion with the indulgence of a tender mother, and Alice felt 
for her helpless charge the mingled reverence and affection of a lov- 
ing child. 

It is evening at Paston Grange. Alice and her charge are alone 
in the family sitting room. Edward Blythe and his son finding 
arithmetic and chit-chat difficult to combine, have retreated to the 
little room adjoining the stables, where they sit, up to their eyes in 
farm accounts. The firelight shines upon the pair they leave be- 
hind — shines as you see quiet moonbeams touch still waters, upon 
the placid beaut3" of the invalid’s pale and tranquil features, is 
flashed back with added lustre from the brilliant eyes, fresh bloom, 
and high complexion of her companion’s youthful face. 

Both are silent. They have not exchanged a word since the two 
men left. Watching the girl, Annis sees a thoughtful look gradually 
steal over the face whose expression she is learning to read; the 
erect and well-set head sinks by degrees upon the palm of the shapely 
hand, the dark eye-lashes droop until they almost touch tbe cheek, 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


189 


a soft and tender melancholy hovers about the comers of the mouth. 
Presently there steals slowly, unconsciously, down the cheek— a tear. 
Then Annis spoke. 

‘‘Why, Alice dear she was beginning, when the girl turned 
towards her with a start. “Why, what’s the matter with my merry 
girl?” 

“ Matter, dear Mrs. Blythe ? Nothing. What should there be?” 

“But,” pursued Annis, gently, “I think — nay, I ’m positive — you 
were absolutely crying. Alice and tears ! The two things are as 
different as night and day. Tell me the cause, dear. Trouble shared 
is trouble lessened, you know. Perhaps I can advise.” 

“Was I really crying ?” exclaimed Alice, putting up her hand in 
wonder. “Yes, actually. Indeed I did n’t know it. But after all 
it ’s not surprising, for my thoughts were sad.” 

“About anything in which 1 can help?” asked Annis, timidly. 
“I’m not much good in life, my dear, I know, but even a stupid old 
woman may sometimes be of use, and .” 

“Come, come!” said Alice, playfully interrupting. “I can’t let 
you slander yourself, my kind friend. I know how good and true a 
heart beats in that poor, maimed form, though your modesty 
won’t admit it. To prove to you that even merry butterflies like 
me can cry at times, I’ve a great mind to punish you by telling a 
long story — my own. Would you like to hear it ? ’’ 

A bright look flashed into Annis’s eyes — one of the old looks al- 
most of the happy womanhood that lay dead and buried so far be- 
hind her. It was clear her new inmate had gained a powerful foot- 
hold in her heart. 

“My dear,” she cried, “you could n’t please me more! I’ve often 
wondered by what singular chance a high-bred, accomplished young 
lady like you should be reduced — you’ll not misunderstand me, 
dear! — to be a companion to an ignorant old cripple such as I. Not 
that I ’m inquisitive ; don’t fancy that for a moment, but I can see 
you’ve some trouble on your mind, although you don’t betray your 
feelings. I saw it in the first half-hour we met — and if I could advise 
or help, my dear ” 

“I know you would,” returned Alice, kissing her affectionately. 
“Well, who can say ? At any rate I ’ll tell you my story.” 

Will you have the whole in her own words, or shall I compress 
the facts, and only let Alice speak for herself when the portions bear- 


190 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


ing more immediately upon this history are told ? Your patience 
will be tried less, perhaps, by the latter course. 

Julian Mayne was the third son of an English baronet of con- 
siderable wealth. The boy received the usual education of a gentle- 
man, and at the proper age was vsent into the army, his eldest 
brother being brought up to inherit the entailed estates, which of 
course went with the title, and the second son entering the Church. 
By some singular freak of nature, Julian was altogether unsuited for 
the sphere into which he was born. His proper element was trade. 
For this he had a natural bias, an almost unconquerable love. It 
was with great reluctance he took up the profession of arms, only 
indeed upon the threat of utter disinheritance, if he refused. For 
the blue blood of all the Maynes,both male and female, boiled in their 
aristocratic veins at the bare notion of a descendant of that mag- 
nificent race soiling his fingers and utterly disgracing the family, by 
contact with anything so low as trade. Some of them chose to for- 
get, others perhaps never knew, that the founder of the mushroom 
dynasty sprung into notice in the time of the South Sea bubble, got 
into Parliament, and received his baronetcy for dirty back-stairs dab- 
bling in the famous Stock to benefit political friends. The contempt 
of the chrysalis for the grub, and the positive disgust of the butter- 
fly for both — if insects could lower themselves to the sordid passions 
of mankind — might give some faint idea of the feelings entertained 
by the illustrious Maynes who did not know their origin towards 
this plebeian root. 

The father died — suddenly, or it is believed he would have altered 
his will. Julian received his portion as a younger son, sold out of 
the army, and for a time was heard of no more. With the capital 
thus acquired he went to the United States, and settled as a mer- 
chant in New York. There, he married an American lady, by whom 
he had issue one son, who died in his infancy, and twin daughters, 
who survived. Alice was one of these, Georgina the other. 

1 should have said it was late in life before Julian Mayne made 
up his mind to marry— so late, in fact, that he was over 50 when 
his twin girls were a little more than four years old. His health 
had been failing for some time past; the anxieties of business, acting 
upon a constitution originally not over robust, coupled with the 
wear and tear of a trying climate, proved more than he could bear. 
He was told that his only chance of recovery lay in residence in his 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


191 


native air. He had been, upon the whole, tolerably successful in his 
mercantile career, and thought that, with recovered health, he could 
pursue the life he loved to even greater advantage in England than 
abroad. To what desperate measures the blue blood of the Maynes 
might be driven by the disgrace of a scion of that stupendous house 
carrying on trade under its disgusted nose, this inconsiderate gentle- 
man never gave a thought. 

Being a man of resolute and decided character, Julian Mayne 
speedily wound up his American business, and within six weeks after 
he had learnt the medical opinion was sailing back to England. 
The passage was long and wearisome in those days. Cunard steam- 
ers — the ocean railway trains — were as yet in the womb of futurity. 
Six weeks to two months was the average time occupied in the voy- 
age from shore to shore; or, not unfrequently, the ship was never 
heard of more — was blotted out from creation, as if she had never 
existed ; went down with all her living freight of human hearts and 
souls and hopes, into the unknown depths of the pitiless sea. 

Something analogous to this was the fate of the vessel in which 
the Maynes embarked — something analogous, yet almost worse, 
because more terrible. In the middle of the vast ocean solitude — 
days after they had lost sight of the coast — when even the seaweed, 
shore-birds, and floating driftwood showing vicinity to human life 
on land had ceased — far away from all help, all assistance, all com- 
panionship from any passing vessel — in the dead of the night, the 
silence of the sleepers was broken by the most awful sound that can 
fall upon the ear of man and woman out at sea. The cry of “ Fire !” 
rang through the startled ship. 

“Child — infant, almost — as I then was,^^ continued Alice Mayne, 

every event of that fearful night is indelibly impressed upon m3" 
memory. Torn suddenly by our frightened parents from the berth in 
which we slept together, my sister and I were hastily dressed and 
hurried upon deck. Before we left the cabin, I recollect my father 
dividing his bills, bank-notes, and papers of value, retaining half 
himself and giving my mother the remainder. This precaution, he 
told her, was to provide for the chance of separation. It was for- 
tunate he was so thoughtful. 

“ Giving me into my mother’s care, and himself taking charge of 
Georgina, my father rushed forward to ascertain the extent of our 
(ianger. We saw him disappear into the crowd of shrieking passeu- 


192 


ALBANY STARKS REVENGE. 


gers, half-dressed and frantic with fear, clamoring round the cap- 
tain, who vainly tried to persuade them to leave him free to try and 
quell the flames. Precious minutes passed before he even partially 
succeeded, and then it was too late. 

“The fire had broken out amongst the cargo stowed in the fore- 
hold. Grasping me tightly by the hand, my mother retreated to 
the stern, where several of the crew were launching two of the 
boats. Just as they got them into the water, a pillar of smoke and 
flame shot up with a roar and a furious burst from the hold, and 
cut us off from our companions in the fore part of the ship. 
Scorched by its fiery breath, half-stiffied by the smoke, my mother 
shrieked to the men to find her husband and child and bring them 
to her, but the sailors, very naturally, were too intent upon secur- 
ing their own safety to listen. Snatching us up, they lowered us into 
a boat, followed immediately themselves, and at once put off from 
the side. 

“The crew in the fore-part of the vessel no sooner saw some of 
their comrades in security than they at once determined to adopt a 
similar course. Pushing the captain aside, who — poor man ! — did 
his utmost to induce them to stand by the ship, they launched such 
boats as they could reach and crowded into them with all possible 
speed. The flames had now gained the rigging, and lit up the night 
until the darkness was as clear as day. You may suppose how 
eagerly we watched the figures jumping into the boats, in the hope of 
seeing our dear ones among the saved ; but in the confusion it was 
impossible to ascertain. I still believe my sharp young eyes did de- 
tect my father and Georgina among the latest lowered over 
the side ; my mother always declared she was convinced they were 
left in the ship. It matters little which of us was right, for from 
that hour we never saw or heard of either more.’’ 

Here Alice paused, and pressed her handkerchief to her eyes. Of- 
ten as her mind had dwelt upon the memory of the night that de- 
prived her of father and sister, the process of clothing its events in 
words brought their loss again before her with a vividness that 
added keener intensity to the pang. Annis was silent, but the ca- 
ressing touch of her fingers, gently laid upon the bowed head at her 
side, spoke tender sympathy more eloquently than words. 

“ After thirty hours anxiety,” continued the girl with a sigh, “ our 
boat was picked up by a Boston ship bound for Liverpool. We had 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


193 


parted company with the others during the night, and I know not 
what became of them. The remainder of the voyage was safely 
accomplished, and upon reaching England we came to London. 
My mother had by this time become convinced our dear ones had 
not been saved, and, poignant as was her grief, the hard necessities 
of life gave her little leisure to mourn. By my poor father’s prudent 
foresight we were secure from absolute want, but even the sum we 
possessed was inadequate to our maintenance. The old, old ques- 
tion arose, which has perplexed so many another sorrowful, be- 
reaved woman and child : How were we to live ? 

“Among the portion of my father’s papers we retained was a let- 
ter to an old business connection in London. Of him my mother 
sought advice. By his counsel part of our small property was in- 
vested in the purchase of a boarding house at Chelsea, the remain- 
der so placed as to bring us in a small but certain yearly income, 
and we started upon our new career. 

“For the next few years our life run in a tolerably smooth, un- 
broken current. Our income sufficed for our moderate wants. My 
mother educated me herself at first ; then entrusted me, under her 
superintendence, to a clever governess, to whose kindness and devo- 
tion I mostly owe such knowledge as I possess. Saving the one 
ever present sorrow — uncertainty as to my father’s and sister’s fate — 
we were even contented and happy. Too happy perhaps, for our 
felicity was not to last. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


SEN IX GREY. 

“We had been settled at Chelsea about five years,’’ continued 
Alice, “when two of our rooms which happened to be vacant re- 
ceived fresh inmates. A widow lady and her son were the new occu- 
pants. The lady gave her name as Senora Grey. By degrees we 


13 


194 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


leamt that though a Spaniard by birth, she was the relict of an 
English sailor, a mate in the merchant service, whose fate was a 
blank. The vessel in which he was known to have embarked had 
sailed from port, been spoken when some distance on her voyage, 
but had never been heard of again. Whether she had sunk in a sud- 
den storm, or been consumed by fire, or captured by pirates, or 
driven out of her course to some remote island, vrhose savage na- 
tives yet held her passengers and crew in slavery — what strange 
and singular accidents, to which all who ‘go down to the sea in 
ships ’ are exposed, had happened to the vessel no one ever knew. 
So long a time however had elapsed that her owners had given her 
up for lost, and the insurance had been paid by the underwriters. 
Such, at least, was the Senora’s painful story. 

“Though still, I should suppose, but little over thirty, the Spanish 
lady’s face told that sorrow and she were old companions. Yet at 
one time she must have been eminently beautiful. Even now her fine 
dark eyes, dimmed possibly by grief and wearing uncertainty as to her 
husband’s fate — her magnifieent wealth of blue-black hair, streaked 
lavishly though it was with grey — her clear olive complexion and 
regular features, set in a well-proportioned oval mask — coupled with 
the white and dazzling brilliance of the splendid teeth revealed by 
her rare and mournful smile — formed elements which must have made 
up into an enchanting picture when lighted by the magic radiance of 
happiness, youth and love. But all these beauties were now as it 
were veiled. To look at her face reminded you of the splendors of a 
fading year. Spring was gone, summer had vanished, autumn was 
far advanced, winter drawing on apace. 

“Her son, Walter, was a handsome, lively lad about fifteen. Pre- 
senting a striking likeness to his mother, the finer traits of her 
countenance were traceable upon an enlarged and bolder scale in his. 
But there resemblance ceased. Moral affinity there was none what- 
ever between the two. Indeed it would have been difficult perhaps 
to find a mother and son so like in feature, so utterly unlike in mind. 
She, quiet, patient, humble, and resigned, with the shadow of an 
ever-present sorrow constantly resting upon her face; he, bold, dar- 
ing, ardent, pleasure-seeking, unprincipled, halting at nothing — 
however evil — so he attained his end. Rightly or wrongly, I have 
always imagined Walter Grey was indebted to his mother for his 
beauty, but must have inherited his father’s nature and mind. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


195 


“We soon discovered onr new lodgers were very poor. Not that 
the Senora ever complained, or ever failed in paying us our due. 
Punctual to the hour, she appeared on the first of every month in 
my mother’s little sitting-room, laid the requisite sum upon the table, 
exchanged a few brief sentences, and glided quietly away. But the 
scantiness of their means was evident in a hundred trifling signs 
that told their story to a woman’s eye. Dress, furniture, food, mode 
of living, were all arranged upon the most economical scale — clearly 
from necessity, not taste. A clever embroideress, the Senora plied 
her busy needle all day long, while light burned in her window and 
streamed from beneath her chamber door, at hours of the night when 
all other inmates had long retired to rest. 

“Young Grey at that time held a situation as copying clerk in a 
solicitor’s office in Clement’s Inn — the place of business of the gentle- 
man, by the way, through whose recommendation I came to you. 
The boy wrote an excellent hand, and was in every way possessed 
of great ability, but unfortunately he lacked the greatest gilts of all, 
sound principle and kind heart. Even at that early age, the god of 
his idolatry was self. His own comforts, meals, pleasures, amuse- 
ments, were paramount and of the first importance ; his mother’s 
well-being was a secondary consideration. Of that easy, trouble- 
hating temper so often mistaken for generosity, he did not mind 
contributing his trifling quota to the family purse. But his manner 
of so doing was characteristic. Where another boy of his age would 
have eagerly poured his earnings into his mother’s lap, begging her 
to relax her labors and let him work for both, this young cynic first 
carefully provided for everything it was possible he might require, 
then grudgingly consented to surrender a portion of the rest. Yet, 
I believe that then the worst faults of which he could be accused 
were self-worship and coldness of heart. They had not yet hurried 
him on to the commission of crime. 

“The Greys had been our inmates about three years when the ten- 
antcy was dissolved by death. The health of the Senora had long 
been failing, but nobody imagined the end was so near. Walter’s 
conduct, we knew, had been latterly a source of grave anxiety to 
her, and she had been forced to remonstrate seriously with him as 
to his irregularities. One morning after an altercation of this sort, 
broken off by the young man rushing downstairs in hasty passion 
and slamming the street door violently as he went out, my mother 


196 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


had occasion to go to the Senora’s room. To her horror, she found 
the poor lady lying on the floorinaswoon. A dark crimson stream 
was flowing from her mouth, and had deeply stained her dress. She 
had broken a blood-vessel. 

“ Medical aid was instantW procured, and a messenger sent for 
Walter Grey. He returned with the news that the youth was not 
at his employer’s oiflee, nor did he appear there during the da3^ The 
physician reported the Senora’s case as hopeless, and his prediction 
proved onl^^ too true. She died that afternoon. Before her death, 
she rallied sufficiently to beg my mother to look after her boy. Too 
kind-hearted to refuse the pleading of those bCvSeeching eyes and feeble 
accents, m3" dear mother accepted the fatal charge. Ah ! could she 
onl3" have forseen what iniser3" she was preparing for herself and me, 
not even her almost morbid dread of giving pain would have induced 
her to consent. 

“Neither that night, nor the next da3’^, nor the day after, did 
Walter Grey return. He was not seen in Clement’s Inn, he was not 
encountered at an\" of his usual haunts; nobody knew whither he 
had gone or what had become of him. Once, I admit, a horrible 
suspicion did faintly cross my mind that passion might have pro- 
voked him to raise a sacrilegious hand against her who was gone, 
and that guilty conscience kept him at a distance from the scene ol 
the deed. But I am glad to say that here I wronged him ; heartless 
and selfish as he was, to that atrocious depth of callous ignominy 
which could prompt a child to strike the form of her who gave him 
life, he had not descended. My mother’s sorrow as to his continued 
absence was pitiful to see. To her warm and tender heart it seemed 
so truly awful to picture the despair of the son who, never dreaming 
of what had taken place, returned only to find perishing clay where 
he expected welcome and forgiveness, that, for her sake even more 
than his, I wished the terrible scene was past. A singular, and even 
now inexplicable event turned the current of our thoughts into a 
different channel. 

“Walter’s employer, Mr. Stark, learning from the messenger we 
kept continually sending to Clement’s Inn what had occurred, called 
at our house and asked to see my mother. A stern man with a cold, 
piercing eye, and a rigid face that seemed to indicate great decision 
of character. The object of his visit, when disclosed, struck us with 
even greater wonder than the visit itself. He had known the Senora 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


197 


in early years — before her marriage, I think he said — and asked per- 
mission now to see her once again before her face was hidden from 
earthly view. Singular as was the request, it was one that for Wal- 
ter’s sake, as showing an amount of sympathy with his bereavement, 
my mother did not like to refuse. 

“Mr. Stark accompanied my mother to the room where the bod}^ 
lay. The covering being drawn from the face of the corpse, he gazed 
upon the still, pale features without a word. A feeling of delicacy 
easy to be understood prevented my mother from even appearing to 
watch the impression made upon him by the sight, and drawing 
back a little she looked out of the window. A- slight noise caused 
her hastily to turn her head. To her intense amazement, she saw 
this hard, frigid, impenetrable-looking man — a compound apparently 
of flint and iron— passionately pressing his lips to the cold forehead, 
while a rain of hot and blinding tears poured vehemently upon the 
face of the dead ! 

“My mother’s natural impulse was to steal unobserved from the 
room, but she was checked by her strange visitor. With a haughty 
toss of the head, and an instantaneous banishment of all traces of 
emotion from his face, he told her quietly that he should bear all ex- 
penses of the funeral, but charged her to keep this fact a secret from 
Walter Grey. He took an interest in the lad, he added, and, not- 
withstanding his irregularities, would continue him in his service, 
but would be glad if my mother, by allowing him to remain her in- 
mate, would keep that amount of check upon him which feminine 
society and a comfortable home afford. 

“We were spared the painful scene we had anticipated upon Wal- 
ter’s return, which took place in the course of the day, for his first 
words showed he knew what had happened. His informant, as we 
at once surmised, was Mr. Stark. Notwithstanding that that gen- 
tleman had laid no injunctions to secrecy upon my mother as to his 
visit to the dead, neither she nor I thought it advisible to mention 
it to Walter. We feared it might sow seeds of presumption in soil 
only too ready to push them into rank and unsound growth. 

“The young man’s indifference asto his loss, after the first natural 
emotion had passed away, indeed greatly shocked us both, and left 
upon our minds a worse impression of his heart than we had yet 
conceived. It almost seemed as if he looked upon his mother’s death 
as a relief A watchful eye was closed ; a tongue which, though ever 


19S 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


kind and tender, still was too faithful to duty to spare remonstrance 
or reproof, was silent forever. Unchecked, unhindered, he was now 
at liberty to run riot as he pleased. For he soon clearly showed 
that the trust committed to my mother by almost the last words 
that had passed the Senora’s lips was not regarded as an obligation 
in any way bindiiig upon him. 

“Time passed, and Walter still continued with us. Being in a 
manner adopted into the family, we naturally saw more of him than 
w^ had ever done before. He breakfasted with us, spent the few 
evenings he passed at home in our society, and was treated in every 
respect like a child of the house. And he could be a very pleasant 
and agreeable companion when he chose. He had a natural gift oi 
eloquence, which, joined to his suave and plausible manner, really 
almost succeeded in pursuading you against your senses unless you 
were extremely firm. My poor dear mother was no match for him at 
all. He met her arguments with a flood of commonplaces and an 
amount of volubility by which she was utterly confused, and gener- 
ally gave up all eflbrts to influence him in despair. With me he was 
less successful. Perhaps I was by nature keener-sighted, or harder, 
or less impressionable than she was, but his compliments and his 
fascinating ways — however delightful they might have been to some 
girls — only produced disgust upon me; and for that reason, I sup- 
pose, a thinly-veiled dislike grew up between us. 

“As time went on, this feeling grew stronger. Upon my side, at 
least, though, if I could place faith in the assurances I received, it 
was converted into exactly the opposite passion upon his. He be- 
gan to pay court to me. Oh, my kind friend, I trust that in your 
quiet life you have never been exposed to the trial of receiving the 
addresses of a man whom you not onlj^ feel you could never love, 
but whom you positively see through and despise! You believe him 
— this man who asks you for the greatest treasure it is in woman’s 
power to bestow, the jewel she can only give once, and to one, and 
then never again — perhaps to be actuated by the meanest and pal- 
triest of motives that ever operated upon mortal mind ; you dislike 
and mistrust him ; you doubt his every word, his ever^^ look, his 
every gesture; you feel that to kneel at his side before God’s holy 
altar, and speak the awful words that bind your lives together, 
would be the rankest, the most infamous perjury; — you feel all this, 
the conviction of the creature’s thorough worthlessness who seeks 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


199 


your love is burnt in upon your mind with an accurac3^ a sharpnesid 
equalling in its intensity the clearest and most positive knowledge ; — 
and yet 3^ou are restrained from indignantly flinging defiance in his 
face by tenderness for one you dearly love. 

“Such was the position into which I was gradually brought with 
regard to Walter Grey. By the skillful exercise of those attractive 
qualities he really possessed, he continued to insinuate himself so com- 
pletely into my dear mother’s good graces that she often condemned 
my treatment of him as harsh and unjust. So apt was he in making 
‘the worse appear the better reason,’ that he had always a plaus- 
ible excuse at hand for any irregularity of which he was accused. 
B3’' an exercise of self-control of which I had never thought him cap- 
able, he positively did abstain so long from late hours, bad company, 
extravagance, and all the other favorite vices to which he had been 
addicted, as to persuade my mother of his complete reform. That 
was his first step towards the object he had set himself to attain. 

“ His next, as I have mentioned, was to pay court to me, and here, 
greatly as I disliked him, I was less able to resist than you would 
suppose. For some years my mother had been affected with heart 
disease, and latterly it had grown worse. With a good deal of 
trouble I succeeded in obtaining from the physician who attended 
her his real opinion of her state. Though in no immediate danger, 
he told me any excitement — especially a sudden shock, would prob- 
ably prove fatal. Walter knew this ; for finding me in great distress 
iust after the physician’s departure, I had been unable to disguise 
the reason of my tears. Could you believe that this artful monster 
actually availed himself of this circumstance to aid his suit ? My 
refusal to listen, he declared, would bring about what I so greatly 
dreaded. Could I disguise from myself, he asked, how ardently my 
mother was bent on leaving me, should she be suddenly called away, 
well cared for, protected, provided with a shield against the storms 
of fate? And would I be so unfair, he concluded, as to condemn a 
man for juvenile errors who had long since thoroughly repented, 
and wished nothing more than to atone for such evil as he had done 
by making one happy whom he so fondly loved ? Such w’as his 
daily theme. 

“ But, you will say, I judged him wrongly. Some affection he 
must have surely felt. Not an atom, dear friend. I tell you. Hooked 
into that man’s heart, and read it as easily as if it were an open 


200 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


book. Self had been the god of his idolatry from his earliest years; 
self, and the desire of an easy life while another labored, were still 
his aims. He knew that the house we inhabited was our own ; he 
knew that it now yielded a tolerable return ; he knew that, in the 
course of years, my mother’s careful management had added to our 
invested stock. He cast a covetous eye upon our little property 
and made up his mind it should become his own. Of love for me he 
never felt a trace. Upon the contrary, he hated me, knowing that 1 
saw through him. Yet he would have married me for the small for- 
tune I should inherit, and to work for his comfort. Can you wonder 
that i loathed him ? 

“You see now how it was my hands were tied. Love for my dearest 
mother, regard for her health, made it impossible to come to an 
open breach with Walter, and induced me to temporize. His knowl- 
edge of my reasons made him persevere, and led him to regard ulti- 
mate victory as sure. But for this, his cautious self-love would have 
prevented an act which secured his defeat, it is true, but at the same 
time wrested from my arms that dear and revered companion 1 
would almost have sacrificed all my hopes of earthly happiness to 
etain. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


A CATASTROPHE. 

“You will remember,” continued Alice, “my saying that such little 
property as we possessed, beyond the boarding-house, was invested 
in Government stock. To this we added such small savings as we 
Avere enabled to make from time to time, and upon the whole we re- 
ceived the dividends at the appointed periods. Since my dear 
mother’s health had become so fragile as to confine her almost en- 
tirely to the house, she had placed all her business matters in the 
hands of Mr. Stark. It was he who for a considerable time past 
had saved her the trouble of visiting the Bank. The money was 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


201 


usually forwarded through Walter Grey, and being always punct- 
ually paid, its regularity furnished my mother with an additional 
argument as to his perfect trustworthiness and thorough reform. 

“Shortly after one of these payments had been made, my mother 
one morning received a letter from Mr. De Geer, the old friend, and 
whose business connection of my poor father, to whose advice she 
had resorted upon first coming to town. From this gentleman she 
learnt that he had an excellent opportunity of putting her in the 
way of a very advantageous and perfectly safeinvestment, provided 
she would entrust her small capital for a short time to his care. 
Anxious for my sake to turn our small means to the best account, 
she instantly sent me off to Mr. Stark with the letter to ask his ad- 
vice, adding an authority, if he thought fit, to sell all the stock 
standing in her name and hand over the proceeds to Mr. De Geer. 

“Mr. Stark was of opinion so favorable a chance should not be 
lost. Mr. De Geer’s character in the City stood too high to admit 
of doubting what he said, and the solicitor at once set off with me 
to the Bank to sell out the stock. Leaving me in the cab at the door 
he went in, saying he should return in a few minutes, but an hour 
must have passed before I sawiiim again. Saying a hasty word to 
the driver, he jumped in and drew up the glass. Always stern and 
curt in manner, I thought he had never looked so harsh and unpre- 
possessing as he went on in a few brief sentences to reveal a terrible 
disaster. Being himself too much occupied to receive the last divi- 
dends in person, he had sent Walter Gre^^ in his stead, as had indeed 
been done before. That day, the entire stock standing in my 
mother’s name was sold. It was but too evident Walter was the 
thief! 

“You may imagine my distress at this appalling news. Small as 
had been my faith in Walter’s ostentatious reform, I had never ima- 
gined him capable of such hideous ingratitude towards her who had 
replaced with so much care and affection the parent he had lost. I 
dared not tell my mother of the discovery. In her present state of 
health the shock might be fatal. Yet what was to be done? Mr. 
Stark advised that I should excuse the delay by telling my mother 
the forms of business retarded the sale for a day or two, promising 
that he would use his utmost efforts with Walter in the meantime 
to obtain restitution. The circumstances of the case were so 
peculiar, he said, that the best chance of regaining our property was 


202 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


by working upon the plunderer’s feelings ; harsh measures could but 
be tried if persuasion failed. 

“ I am nearing the catastrophe, my kind friend — the cruel, terrible 
catastrophe, the hardest blow of all — the stroke in comparison with 
which the loss of that wretched money was but as thistle-down in 
the balance. Alas ! could I only have foreseen to what a calamity 
my well-meant efforts to regain it would lead, I would have gladly 
held my peace and bribed the robber with all that I possessed, to 
depart with his ill-gotten gains and let us see his evil face no more. 

“I acted upon Mr. Stark’s advice, and my mother never dreamt 
of what had taken place. I persuaded her to retire early, saying I 
would sit up for Walter, who had not yet returned. And there I 
waited — waited woman’s weary watch for profligate and truant 
man ; counting the hours, listening for his well-known knock, vainly 
imagining that every footfall sounding clear in the hush of the night 
was his; recapitulating every argument I could think of to induce 
him to repair the wrong; never imagining that the end, the terrible 
end, was so awfully near. 

Midnight had long passed before Walter came home. Recognizing 
his step, I opened the door before his hand could touch the knocker, 
and drew him into the parlor where I had been waiting ere he had 
recovered his surprise. Before I opened my lips I saw he felt that I 
knew all, for the old defiant look I was so accustomed to see when 
he was remonstrated with rose into his face, and I knew my task 
would be hard. Added to this, the miserable man had been drinking 
— to drown the pangs of conscience, I suppose — and though not in- 
toxicated, was in that obstinately disputatious frame of mind which 
seizes every opportunity for cavil. 1 noticed this afterwards, for at 
first, as you may imagine, I was too eager in remonstrating to ex- 
amine minutely. 

“While waiting his arrival, I had thought that when I charged 
him with the fraud, he would be overwhelmed with confusion. Un- 
acquainted with the desperate wickedness of a thoroughly corrupt 
mind, I had even formed excuses for him in my heart, attributing his 
crime to sudden temptation and inability to resist its lure. Judge 
therefore of my horror when he utterly declined to avail himself of the 
plea, coolly declaring that his conduct had been the result of deliber- 
ate calculation, meant, he had the impudence to add, to put a stop 
to my vacillation, and drive me to immediate acceptance of his suit 


^03 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 

The cynical words in which he told his baseness I shall never forget. 

“ ‘ You dare not tell your mother,’ ” he said with a hideous sneer. 

‘ So excellent a daughter could never forgi^'e herself what would 
ensue. You dare not let Stark prosecute me; the result of exposure 
would be too distressing to your delicate mind. Writhe as you may, 
my lady, you are in the toils, and can no longer flout me with your 
insolent airs. Better give in, lay down your arms, and trust to the 
generosity of the victor! ’ 

“Dear friend, there are insults which it is impossible to endure 
without instantly avenging, and live. There are taunts so malig- 
nant, so barbarous, that they transform the coolest blood into a 
a raging, furious torrent, and drive it kindling, seething, bubbling 
madly in upon the brain. Such was this. For a moment I forgot 
the imprudence of angering this monster, who, so to speak, held my 
dear mother’s existence in his cruel grasp ; all fear of consequences 
vanished from my mind as if I had never felt the dread ; I knew noth- 
ing, saw, heard, felt nothing save the consciousness of his brutal and 
unmanly gibe. For one brief moment I was mad! 

“What I did or said in my vehement passion I know not even to 
this hour, but when the mist cleared from before my sight I found 
Walter Grey holding me down forcibly in my chair, both my hands 
grasped in his, while a little stream of blood was flowing from his 
forehead and trickling slowly down his cheek. A scowl of savage 
fury was stamped upon his face, but at the same time I saw in his 
eye — and Heaven forgive me ! with a gratification of which I have 
ever since been heartily ashamed — an unmistakeable expression of 
fear. 

“ ‘ You cat ! ^ he snarled. * You dangerous wild-cat I I’ll pay you for 
this. Don’t fancy you shall go scot-free. 1 would n’t have you now, 
with an empire for your dowry, but something better shall be mine 
— full, luscious revenge!’ 

“ He darted from the room as he spoke, and hurrying after him up 
the stairs I saw him disappear into his room, and heard him lock the 
door. 

“Filled with dire forebodings of impending but unknown danger, 
I went to my own apartment, which was next to my mother’s. You 
may imagine how bitterly 1 reproached myself for having giving way 
to my temper, but regret was now too late. All I coul3 do was to 
think over the best means of breaking the bad news with the greatest 


204 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


caution, and in revolving various methods of effeeting this I passed 
a couple of weary hours. Tired out with the emotions of the day, I 
was upon the point of preparing for bed, when my attention was 
caught by a smell as of burning wood, which grew every moment 
stronger and more distinct. A smarting pain in my e\"elids, which I 
had before attributed to crying and want of sleep, was now ex- 
plained by wreaths and puffs of light-blue smoke, that began to enter 
through the chinks of the door. Presently a picture fell from the 
wall, and vapor issued from the hole left by the nail which had fallen 
with it. A low, rushing murmur succeeded, intermingled with crack- 
ling, now distinctly of kindled wood, and the eddies of smoke circled 
through the air in larger volume. 

I rushed to the door, and threw it open. Merciful Heaven !— the 
house was on fire ! 

“M3" first thought was for my mother. Running to her bedside, I 
found her already awoke by the oppression of the smoke and the 
momentarily increasing roaring of the flames. Her agitation and 
alarm were distressing. She shook and trembled to such a degree 
that I was obliged to dress her as if she were achild, and in this way 
precious time was lost. 

“The knocking of the police had now aroused the neighborhood 
and the other inmates of the house. Not waiting to put on their 
clothes, the latter rushed into the street in their night-gear, and all, I 
afterwards found, succeeded in effecting their escape. My mother 
and I were not so fortunate. The time consumed in soothing her 
alarm had enabled the flames to gain so much head that when I 
threw open the door to support my mother down stairs, we found 
all the lower part of the house one vivid sheet of fire. Escape in this 
direction was utterly cut off. 

“My mother’s bedroom was upon the second floor. Throwing 
open the window, I screamed loudly for help to the horror-stricken 
crowd below. A roar of frantic excitement broke from the assembled 
mass, whose members had evidently fancied all the inmates of the 
house had escaped. Cries to bring ladders, advice to tie the sheets 
and blankets together, so forming a rope by which to descend, then 
to jump out, then to stop where we were — a hundred various coun- 
sels, in short — burst from the seething, agitated mob, swaying from 
side to side in wild dismay. M eantime the roar of the flames inside 
the house steadily increased. The light of the approaching fire began 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


205 


to shine through the crevices of the door, the smoke was almost stifl- 
ing, and the floor grew scorching and hot beneath our feet. 

“The progress of the fire had been so rapid that up to this moment 
no fire-engines had arrived. Now, at last — thank Heaven! — they 
came. Round the corner dashed four or five in quick succession, the 
crowd giving back as the^^ came up. To the practised eyes of the 
experienced firemen our despairing figures at the window told the 
whole story at a glance. Hastily uncoupling tie short ladders they 
carried beneath their engines, and linking them together, a chain of 
sufficient length was found to reach to where we stood. The stout 
fellow who ap])eared next moment at the window received my 
mother’s all but insensible form from my hands, and bore her swiftly 
in safety to the ground. She was no sooner down than a second 
sturdy rescuer came up for me. 

“We were half-way down the ladder when on a sudden, without 
an instant’s warning, the roof of the house fell in with a tremendous 
crash. My bearer and I were flung with stunning violence into the 
dense mass of the crowd, which fortunately broke our fall. The first 
impression of the bystanders however was that we had been over- 
whelmed in the ruins. I heard my dear mother utter a shriek — so 
piercing, so heart-rending, I wake up sometimes in the night and 
hear it ringing even now in my ears. I heard her cry ‘ My child ! — 
oh, save my child! ’ The next moment she fell to the ground — mute, 
helpless, dead! 

“ They ran to her assistance, but it was too late. The great shock 
had been too powerful for her delicate frame, and my best earthly 
friend had been summoned away. 

“What need,” continued Alice Mayne, after a brief pause, “to 
dwell upon the miserable time that followed ? Investigation of the 
ruins by competent persons showed it was only too probable, though 
the fact could never be distinctly proved, that the fire had been the 
work of a malignant hand. Whose it could have been may be guessed. 
Though strict fairness will not allow me to bring any accusation, yet 
there was only one to whose appetite for vengeance the crime could 
be laid. The mystery surrounding its origin was used by the Assur- 
ance Company as a pretext for evading payment of the policy, so 
that that fatal night deprived me, besides the irreparable loss of my 
mother, of such scanty means as Walter Grey’s first abominable 
treachery had spared. 


206 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


“ Mr. Stark was very kind in my affliction. He tried his utmost, I 
believe, to procure me recompense for the loss I had sustained by the 
fire, but all his efforts were in vain. Had I possessed the means to 
prosecute my claim, perhaps the result might have been different. As 
it was, the penniless orphan proved no match for the wealthy Com- 
pany, and the weaker party went to the wall. 

“ Walter Grey disappeared from the night of my mother’s death, 
and has not been heard of again. Once though, last year 1 am 
almost certain I saw him in London. But as I was in a carriage, 
takingmy pupils to a railwa3^ station, and he on foot, it is impossible 
to be sure. Mr. Stark, to whom I wrote as soon as I was at leisure» 
assured me I must have been misled by some extraordinar3^ likeness. 

“Before I came to you, my kind friend, I had held situations as 
governess in two families of rank. The first I quirted through a dis- 
agreement with the overbearing mistress of the household, the 
second through the death of my eldest pupil and the family going to 
re^de abroad. I determined therefore to abandon teaching — always 
very distasteful — and to seek a position of the character I now 
occupy. 

“Thus you have, so far, the whole story of my life. It has not 
been a verv happy one, I think, and were it not for my naturally gay 
turn of mind, would probably have been more miserable still. But 
Providence has kindly endowed me with a cheerful disposition, which 
enables me to make the best of things and generally to look at life 
upon its sunny side. It is only when I think of Walter Grey that my 
heart grows bitter. Indirectly — if not in very deed — that man bears 
upon his conscience the guilt of my mother’s death. I could pardon 
the loss of fortune, but I cannot, nor shall I ever forgive him that. 
Pray Heaven he may never cross my path, for if he does, I fear it 
would be a difficult task to keep my hand from revenge.” 

Alice ceased. Her story, especially in its latter portion, had 
aroused powerful interest and sympathy in the breast of her hearer 
but when the last few sentences issued from the excited girl’s lips, 
Annis passed her quiet hand caressingly over the fair young head 
resting against her lap, and said in a solemn tone : 

“My child, try to be calm. Remember where it is written: ‘Ven- 
geance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.’ ” 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


207 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


ASKING ADVICE. 

Some time has passed since we last had speech of Billy, that 
wandering' and eccentric genius touching whom the stay-at-home 
Pastonians doubted whether he were most knave or fool. 

It will hardly be a breach of confidence, I think, to mention, now, 
that Billy was one of the agents employed by Albany Stark in weav- 
ing the complicated patterns of which it was that respectable gentle- 
man’s pleasure to construct his numerous schemes. In his way, too, 
the ragamuffin was a very useful tool. Subsisting ostensibly upon 
the charity of those whom his comic songs, recitations, and quaint 
sa\dngs amused, he was always a handy man to pick up information, 
or to trace out fugitives who had sought refuge in haunts of poverty 
or crime, into which it would have been hazardous for his employer 
to penetrate. It need hardly be said that, as with the majority of 
his confidential agents. Stark had a hold over Billy the latter dared 
not attempt to break. It was an axiom with the lawyer that fear 
always commands more efficient service than love. Pity that in his 
large experience of human nature on one of its weakest sides he had 
so often found reason to consider his cynical opinion just. 

It was another of the lawyer’s rules never to trust any one of his 
subordinates implicitly. The grand secret of the perfect obedience 
and wonderful unanimity of action which characterize the Jesuits is 
alleged to consist in the duty of each member to report the doings 
and words of his most intimate associate to the general of the order. 
Stark acted upon a like principle. When heemplo3"ed an agent upon 
a partieular mission, as he had employed Blande, he invariably 
i.'eized the earliest opportunity of despatching anotherto keep watch 
up(^n the first. Thus, having at Oliver’s request sent Riggsto Lynn, 
he now sent Billy thither also to aet as spy upon Riggs. 

The two have met, and as an almost neeessary consequence, have 
drunk. Curious it is that men of this class rarely speak half a dozen 
sentences upon a casual encounter before the one with most money 
at command slips his hand into his pocket, jingles its contents, ex- 


208 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


changes a significant leer with his companion, and asks, What’s it 
to be ? ” The question is answered at the nearest public-house bar. 

Billy and Riggs were both seasoned casks. As a rule, their ca- 
pacity of holding almost any given amount of strong liquor with- 
out getting intoxicated was nearly boundless. But upon the prcii- 
ent occasion the Yankee was at a disadvantage. Ralph Lee’s atro- 
cious proposal to “silence” Blande still occupied his brain. Weigh- 
ing possible advantages against certain hazards, he was in a state 
of pitiable doubt what course to pursue. For even to his muddled 
intellect it was clear he must side with one or the other. With 
whom then should it be? 

Over and over again he revolved the arguments in his mind. If 
he remained true to Oliver and turned against Lee, that unscrupu- 
lous and daring freebooter had sworn his old associate should fall 
with him ; and Riggs acknowledged with a shudder that the pirate 
captain would undoubtedly keep his word. Escape in that direction 
seemed utterly cut off. If, on the other hand, Riggs closed with 
Lee’s proposal, and did “silence” Oliver, risks were to be encoun- 
tered, it is true, but if successfully surmounted, there also was the 
prospect of a large reward. 

A large reward ! Yes ; but with it the awful burden of a guilty 
conscience, crimsoned with the stain of blood. I do Riggs only sim- 
ple justice when I say that from this he shrunk back, appalled. Not 
that he was fastidious or squeamish. In the old time when the 
Warhawk was the terror of the Southern Seas, the Yankee had never 
hung back or hesitated, however sanguinary the deed. But it was 
one thing to strike down his opponent in the flush and passion of 
the fight, when he and all his comrades knew too that they fought 
with halters round their necks, and altogether a different matter to 
shoot a man in cold blood from behind a hedge as you might pop at 
a sparrow. For the one act, though Riggs knew the stern law 
would have rigorously exacted the penalty had he been caught red- 
handed, to his own mind there would have been a species of excuse. 
For the other, even he felt the only applicable term was that of das- 
tardly assassin. 

Yet what was he to do ? The difficulty of the position might 
have puzzled a stronger brain than that of unscrupulous and 
ignorant Riggs. By the plain and simple rule: “Do right, whatever 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


209 


betide,’^ men of this stamp are never guided. Expediency and self 
interest are their idols, worshipping which they fall into the pit. 

Wandering through Lynn the morning after his interview witl 
Ralph Lee, revolving the momentous question through all its as 
pect?s in his troubled mind, the Yankee’s doubts had driven him to 
the common resort of his class when uneasy — drink. Lee’s liberality 
the previous night had furnished him with ample means to indulge 
his favorite passion, so that when, upon le^iving the fifth tavern he 
had visited, he met with Billy, he was far from sober either in gait 
or speech. 

“Yhy, Aby,” was Bill3"’s salutation, “you looks jolly, old son. 
Vhat’s the tap, my bricksy ? Any left for an old pal ? ” 

‘‘Kim along an’ try, my hearty,” responded Riggs, slapping his 
pocket with an air of bravado. “ This child ain’t the b’y to leave a 
messmate adrift. Kim in an’ licker.” 

. Nothing loath, Billy followed his comrade into the tavern Riggs 
had just left. The two turned into the taproom, the stroller’s primi- 
tive wardrobe — no wise altered from the time we saw it last — ren- 
dering him unfit company for the comparative refinement of the par- 
lor. Riggs called for drink, and pulled out a handful of silver and 
gold upon its arrival. The sight immediately caught Billy’s quick 
eye. 

“Hallo!” was his immediate thought. “Summut hup as vants 
lookin’ arter.” 

But he said never a word. His sharp, acute gaze ran up and 
down the Yankee’s flushed face, detecting, with that singular instinct 
inherent in all who have lived by their wits from infancy, unusual 
in\^stery in the half-drunken leer and craving for advice in the puz- 
zled brow. Urged partly by his own liking for liquor, partly by de- 
sire to bring his comrade up to confidential pitch, Billy pushed the 
bottle eagerly, and soon found his efforts rewarded with success. 

“ Yer don’t drink, messmate! ” cried Riggs, after a short interval. 
“Tip it up, my hearty, an’ call for more. Plenty o’ shot in the locker 
yet, an’ lots more where this kim from. Strike me curous if I ain’t 
glad to ha’ met you, for I wants a pal.” 

“Vy, vhot’s hup, Aby?” asked Billy, with an air of seeming un- 
concern. “Found a gold mine, an’ vant a ’and at the diggin’s? 
’T ain’t my line that ’ere, old son. I lets other coves vork, I does, 
and comes in for my share o’ the dibs.” 


210 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


“An’ the best plan, too,” returned his companion with an oath. 
“ Wall, I carn’t say as ’ow I ’ve fun’ a gold-mine ezactly, neither, but 
I know who has, and what’s more I knows ’ow to work it too. 
But ’t is a darned ugly business, messmate, and vhot I wants mor’n 
anything’s just a bit of advice.” 

“Then I’m yer man, Aby. Adwice gratis at this shop, cos vhy — 
’t ain’t not no trouble. Fire away! ” 

Thus abjured, the Yankee told his tale. But with characteristic 
caution he abstained from giving his companion any clue from 
which the nature of his old connection with Ralph Lee could be 
guessed, nor did he even plainly state the actual service required. 
In answering Billy’s questions, however, which were as many and 
as searching as Hiose of an Old Bailey barrister having a reluctant 
witness under the harrow of cross-examination, he inadvertently let 
out considerably more than he intended, and the stroller’s native 
acuteness led him straight to the mark. 

“Aby,” he said, gravely, when the Yankee had finished his story, 
“you ’re in a horkard fix, that’s sartin, but I thinks I sees a vay 
hout. You axed for my adwice. Now there’s lots o’ coves allays 
ready to ax adwice. but precious few as cares to take it when it’s 
guv. I ’m a rummy sort of a chap, an’ I don’t like to throw nothin’ 
avay. Vill you promise to do as I say ? ” 

Riggs scratched his head dubiously. “Wall, shipmet, that de- 
pends,” said he. 

“There you is! ” returned Billy, triumphantly. “That’s as much 
as you ’ll take it if you like an’ let it alone if you don’t.” 

“ Yer see, chum, I ain’t jist sartin as ’ow yer twigs all the ins an’ 
outs o’ the consarn as I do.” mumbled the sailor, apologetically. 

“ Don’t I ? ” quoth Billy, scornfully. “ I knows a jolly sight more 
as you think, my covey, an’ more as you have told neither. An I tell 
you, Aby Riggs, as ’ow you 're on a dangerous lay. If you ’ll take 
my advice, you’ll go straight up to the guv’nor an’ make a clean 
breast of all you know an’ all you ’ve heard, an’ he’ll see you safe 
out o’ the mess,. That’s the only safe game for you, my boy, an’ 
now you can do as you like about it.” 

“What, tell Lawyer Stark the hull affair! I dursn’t, mate, I 
dursn’t. ’T is as much as my life’s worth, I tell yer.” 

“’T is a precious deal more ’n your life’s worth if you don’t, old 
son,” retorted Billy, composedly. “ Put yourself in his hands an’ 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


211 


he’ll see you safe through. Go your own course and see what’ll ’ap- 
pen. That’s my adwice, Aby. Take it or leave it, vhichever you 
please.” 

“ But have n’t I told you I ’m in the power o’ the cove as made 
the offer, man ?” shouted Riggs, passionately. “Why, he could hang 
me to-morrow if he liked ter split.” 

“An’ hain’t yon got no hold on him ? ” 

“ Wall, yes. We ’re in the same boat, ’t is true. If he splits on me, 
I can say fur worse about him.” 

“Then you’re all right. You don’t find a rich cove a cuttin’ his 
own throat to be revenged on somebody else’s. Besides, what is it 
he vants yer to do ? You have n’t said straight out, but Lor’ bless 
you, old son, Billy warn’t born yesterday. You’re to silence 
some other cove. That’s his artful way o’ putting it. But ‘ silenc- 
ing’ a chap in plain English means murder, an’ that means a tight 
choker if you’re cotched or a life of constant fear an’ horror not 
vorth a farden if you ain’t.” 

“ You forget the reward, Billy,” interposed Riggs. “ The party ’ll 
pay thousands for the job, and promises to get whoever does it 
clear out o’ the country afore there’s any noise. Thousands, an’ a 
life o’ pleasure and freedom! Think o’ that, old hoss! ” 

“I’ll tell you what’s my ’pinion on that score, Aby,” returned 
Billy, promptly. “Suppose you do vhot’s vanted, gets clear off, an’ 
the cove does pay you all this tin — vhich ain’t sartin by no means; 
people has vonderful short mem’ries vhen they ’re asked to stum]D 
up— veil, what enjoyment do you think you’d have spendin’ of it ? 
’orrid dreams an’ little sleep o’ nights; no rest, no peace, no ’appi- 
ness by day ; allays a fancyin’ every strange face you see was a ’tec- 
tive in disguise a cornin’ to collar you off to chokey ; an’ the dead 
cove’s heyes a haunting on you day an’ night vith the look in ’em 
they had vhen you seed ’im last. Ugh I it gives a cove the ’orrors 
to think on. No Aby, old son, I ain’t ’tic’lar, as you know, but a 
fellar must draw the line somewhere, an’ I draws it afore takin’ life. 
Take my adwice. Go you up to the guv’nor; tell him all you know, 
an’ it’s my belief he ’ll not only pull you safe through, but tip you a 
quid or two into the bargain.” 

From this safe counsel — wiser and showing more good-feeling 
than many would have fancied dwelt under so rude an exterior — 
Billy was not to be moved. The pair continued their potations for 


212 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


a considerable time, and when they ultimately quitted the house, 
Riggs was holding on to his companion’s arm and vainly tr3dng to 
look sober. As they emerged from the tap-room, a figure wrapped 
in a large cloak, with the collar turned up so as nearly to conceal 
the features, came from an adjoining apartment, and brushed past, 
near enough to hear the Yankee stammer: 

“’T is my ’pinion, messmet, as ’ow j^ou ’ve guv — guv me sound 
advice, an’ durn me ef I don’t take it — to-to-to-morrer.” 

The figure wearing the cloak looked cautiouvsly after the pair as 
they staggered arm-in-arm down the street, then hastily took the 
opposite direction. When he had got clear of Lynn, he turned down 
his collar, drew a long breath of relief and showed a well-known 
face. 

A lucky chance that led me to track that worthy couple,” said 
Oliver Blande. ‘‘Lee is more dangerous than I suspected, and must 
be carefully watched. Should Riggs hold to his last intention, I 
shall owe my safety to his ragged adviser.” 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


PAYING COMPLIMENTS. 

It was a curious characteristic of the unspoken but not less felt 
want of harmony usually existing at The Towers that the members 
of the family rarely met except at meals. For a time, after Oliver’s 
arrival, this habit had been interrupted, but it had now been 
resumed. 

Breakfast, on the morning of which we are now speaking, was 
passed by the three at table in almost total silence. Mrs. Lee, 
as usual indisposed, breakfasted in bed, so that Guenever did the 
honors. She remarked with surprise her father’s reticence towards 
his guest, and noticed with not less wonder Oliver’s evident embar- 
rassment in presence of his host. We, who are behind the curtain 
and know what had passed between the two men in the tavern at 
Lynn the previous night, of course, feel less astonishment. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


213 


It would indeed have been remarkable if the easy confidence prev- 
iously prevailing could have been at once restored. Momentous 
projects, pregnant with thoughts eminently calculated to influence 
the future, were stirring in the minds of each. Oliver was absorbed 
by the doubt whether his entertainer would yield to the arguments 
he had placed before him for uniting their fortunes, and thus enabling 
his emancipation from Stark. Lee was occupied by plans for effect- 
ing the darker purpose to which he had given utterance in his inter- 
view with Riggs. Neither man guessed his companion’s thoughts, 
though the elder could have "so done with nearer approach to accu- 
racy than the younger had he felt inclined tooccup3^ himself with the 
task. Both were alike ignorant of the tremendous Fate hovering 
above their unconscious heads, and drawing nearer with every 
hour. 

True to his easy, careless character, always ready to postpone to 
the morrow the serious considerations of to-day, Oliver was the first 
to recover his wonted self-possession. It wasearlj-in the day, you will 
remember, and he had not yet overheard the conversation between 
Billy and Riggs. Gradually, and without apparent effort, he began 
to exchange a few words with Guenever upon current topics, occa- 
sionally directing a remark to Ralph Lee, but failing to obtain from 
that surly gentleman any more satisfactory answer than an unin- 
telligible grunt. Breakfast over, Lee suddenly pushed back his chair, 
and quitted the room. A minute afterwards they heard the door of 
the library violently closed. 

Catching Oliver’s eye, Guenever hastened to offer a kind of apol- 
ogy for her father’s rudeness. 

“Poor papa seems quite out of sorts this morning” she observed. 
“One of his old fits of gloom is coming on, I fear. He appeared to 

have got over them of late, since ” She stopped, and a slight 

flush tinged her cheek. 

“Since — yes?” asked Oliver. 

“Well since you have been with us, Captain Blande,” she con- 
tinued, looking into his face with a frank smile. “ I sometimes think 
it a great pity he gave up the sea. Time often hangs heavy on his 
hands. I’m sure. Poor Papa ! ” 

“ He certainly seems more fitted for an active life than one of com- 
paaative quiet,” said Oliver, drily. 

“You would say so indeed if you had ever seen him on board ship, 


214 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


as I have. You would not think it could be the same man. Always 
calm and collected, quite and dignified, liked by the passengers, 
idolized by the crew, brave and undaunted in the greatest danger, 
he seemed to be the ideal of a thorough sailor.” 

“So I should have imagined,” was Oliver’s reply. “Curious that 
a man of so much energy of character should have abandoned a con- 
genial profession in the prime of life.” 

“And it happened so suddenly, too,” rejoined Guenever, eagerly. 
“Mamma and I were quite taken by surprise. Papa had so often 
declared he never felt so happy as when afloat that we had quite 
given up all idea of his ever settling on shore — here too, above all. But 
when he came back from his last voyage, you may fancy our aston- 
ishment to learn that he had sold his ship, and had written to my 
aunt Blythe to say he was coming home. Six weeks after, we had 
left Jamaica. You know, I suppose, his terrible disappointment at 
the sad accident to my aunt, and the estrangement with my uncle 
that followed. It was that, I fancy, that changed papa so much — 
to find the hopes he cherished so rudely dashed to pieces.” 

“I heard of the misfortune from you cousin,” returned Oliver. 
“Don’t you think — but no, I have no right to ask.” 

Their conversation had taken a turn in which he felt the highest 
interest. Knowing what he did of Ralph Lee’s previous career, 
every item of additional evidence he could collect was of value. All 
helped to encourage the belief he should eventually prevail in the new 
course upon which he had already entered. Guenever had never be- 
fore spoken to him with so much frankness as she had done to-day. 
He instantly resolved to avail himself of the opportunity, and to 
glean as much as she might be disposed to let fall. 

“ Why not?” inquired the girl softly, alluding to his last remark. 
“ I don’t suppose you’ll want to know any grand secret. What is it 
I don’t think? ” 

“ Well, I was going to say, don’t you think Captain Lee was a 
little hasty in the way he judged of the accident that had happened 
to your aunt? It was an accident, surely; there can’t be any doubt 
of that.” 

“You touch a sore point there, though without meaning it,” she 
returned. “To be frank, I do deeply regret papa’s impetuosity, for 
it has separated us from my aunt. Mamma and I, you see, have no 




ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


216 


acqaintances here, and we are certain we should have loved her 
dearly. Perhaps all may come right in the end.” 

“The loss is hers, I should imagine, more than yours,” said Oliver, 
gazing at her admiringly. 

“Why? What do you mean ? ” 

“ Can’t you guess ? ” 

“No; how should 1? — Pooh, nonsense! I see now. Oh, Captain 
Blande! I thought you were above paying compliments.” 

“You don’t call truth mere compliment, I hope,” whispered Oliver, 
in his most insinuating tone. “ If so, you must consider me the 
greatest sinner alive. Perhaps you would n’t believe me now if I 
were to tell 3^ou the three weeks I have passed here have been the 
happiest of my life. Yet that would be only truth too. Would you 
like to hear the reason ? ” 

“I can’t prevent your speaking if you choose,” she answered, 
gently, “Gentlemen are privileged to talk sad nonsense at times.” 

Her manner was so encouraging, though kept within the strict- 
est bounds of propriety, that Oliver’s inflammable heart was stirred 
into a blaze. He did not know — how could he? — that Mrs. Lee’s 
horrified remonstrances with her daugther had completely succeeded 
in eradicating from Guenever’s mind the suspicion that he had been 
in any way connected with the recent midnight alarm. The subse- 
quent conversation with himself upon the subject had thoroughly 
convinced Guenever of her injustice. Always impulsive, she had im- 
mediately rushed to the opposite extreme: reflection had confirmed 
the view she had adopted, and she was now only too anxious to re- 
pair the fancied wrong. It wastheerror of an ardent, ovcr-^cnerous 
mind, one day bitterly to be repented and atoned. 

Blande was too acute not to perceive and instantly follow up his 
advantage. Little cared he foi the reason of her evident indulgence. 
Coxcomb as he was, he set down the delightful change in her man- 
ner to the account of his irresistible attractions, and fancied he had 
only to speak, and victory was his own. 

“You would n’t be so cruel as to call depth of feeling nonsense,” 
he urged. “ Ah, Guenever, if you would only let me hope 1 ” 

“No, no; not yet,” she answered, hastily disengaging from his im- 
passioned clasp the hand of which he had possessed himself. “Reflect; 
a short time back you didn’t know such a person was in existence. 
We were utter strangers. Our better acquaintance is only of three 


216 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


weeks’ date. Hearts are n’t like batteries, Captain Blande, to be 
stormed with a rush.” 

” At least you’ll let me hope ! ” he repeated, eagerly. “ Short time 
as I have known you, believe me when I swear the impression 3"ou 
have made upon me is indelible. My stay here now is drawing to a 
close, but, absent from you, existence will be a blank. Give me a 
crumb of comfort to feed on while I am away. Tell me 1 shall not 
be unwelcome when I return.” . 

The winning accents of his voice, attuned to their most harmon- 
ious notes, sank deeper into Guenever’s heart than she cared, just 
then, to show. Her feeling for her handsome suitor had not yet got 
beyond strong liking. Naturally open and sincere, without a spark 
of coquetry in her composition, she was too candid to promise any- 
thing she felt uncertain of being able to perform. 

‘‘We have gofeie too far. Captain Blande,” she said now in a se - 
ious voice. “ It was my fault, perhaps. I ought to have kept more 
careful guard upon my tongue. Remen;ber, I promisenothing. You 
may change your mind. If— -if— you db not, and when we know 
each other better, then, if you feel inclined to ask this morning’r 
question again, perhaps — I’ll — answer. ” 

The smile with which she sweetened the bitter draught was a 
corrective of its taste. Yet Oliver felt more vexed than he would 
own. The prize, all but within his grasp, had escaped liim. Before 
he could recover his composure, Guenever was gone. 

“After all,” soliloquised Oliver, “there’s nothing lost. I’ve gained 
as much as I could expect. If luck’s on my side with the father, the 
day will be my own.” 

Turning with a snap of the fingers to leave the room, he raa full 
butt against William Blythe, just entering. 

“Boof’ ” “Poof! ” was the simultaneous exclamation of the pair, 
followed in a moment by a hearty laugh from Will. 

“ Beg pardon, my dear fellow ! ” he exclaimed. “Hope I did n’t 
hurt you. You’re the very man I was just wanting to sec. What 
are you going to do this morning ? ” 

“You’ve a confounded hard head of your own. Master Will,” was 
Oliver’s rather irrelevant reply, carefully feeling his nose, which had 
sustained some damage in the encounter. “What am I going to do? 
Oh, nothing particular. Yes, I must though. I’ve got to see a fellow 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


217 


in Lynn. By Jove! ” he added, looking at his watch. “I must be 
off at once. Come along; we can talk as we go.”* 

Will assenting, the two set out. Upon the road Blande learnt 
that his friend had heard of an estate, with shooting attached, some 
eight miles from Paston and towards the coast, he thought likely to 
suit Oliver’s views. He proposed that they should go over and see 
the place. They could take their guns, he said, on the chance of get- 
ting a little sport. 

The changes that had come over Oliver’s plans since his first 
arrival at Lynn had almost completely banished from his mind that 
visionary estate for which it was his ostensible object to search. 
But he felt that the time had not 3^et come for throwing off the 
mask, and with apparent heartiness agreed to Will’s proposal. It 
was arranged that they should meet next morning in Paston, and 
proceed to Fairfax Lodge. 

This matter settled. Will struck off at a lane leading to the 
Grange, and Oliver went on in search of Riggs to Lynn. Where he 
caught sight of the Yankee has been already told. 


CHAPTER XXXllI. 


A TIGHT HOLD. 

Strengthened in his good resolutions to reject the proposal made 
to him by Lee, Riggs went to The Towers that same evening, and 
asked to see the master. 

Upon plea of indisposition Ralph had had dinner sent to him in 
the library. Taught by old experience of his violence when the fit 
of gloomy depression under which he was now thought to be suffer- 
ing was upon him, neither his wife nor Guenever had ventured to 
intrude. Jake alone had privilege of entry. 

After the negro had carried in the tray— Bob perched as usual 
chattering on his shoulder and clutching tight hold of his playmate’s 
wool — he took up has position behind his master’s chair. Ralph ate 


218 


ALBAHV STARK'S REVENGE, 


a few mouthfuls, trifled a minute with the food upon his plate, then 
pushed it from him with an air of disgust. 

“ Take away, Jake,” he said. I’ve a headache — no appetite. Take 
away, but leave the wine. ” 

He filled a glass to the brim as he spoke,” tossed it off, then filled 
another, and turned to the fire. 

“Well,” he continued, angrily, after a minute’s pause. “Did n’t 
you hear, you sooty- faced rascal ? Take away, I say.” 

Jake started forward. “Him not sure massa might n’t change 
’um mind,” he muttered in excuse. “ Massa do sometimes.” 

Gathering up the materials of the all but untasted meal, Jake 
made a hasty exit. His master looked after him with a scowl. 

“ The fellow’s right,” he said presently. “I do change my mind 
sometimes, but shall not now. That scoundrelly spy’s career must 
be stopped, his blabbing tongue silenced, at once and for ever. And 
yet, somehow, I feel a strange reluctance to push on towards the 
end. Is there no other way— no path, no outlet — than always vio- 
lence, guilt, crime ? 

“I thought I had done with the past. Buried it far down away 
in the depths of memory, out of sight, out of mind, beyond all chance 
of discovery. Here comes this daring dog — this sneak, this lurker, 
this battener upon other men’s follies — and digs it up again ; spreads 
it before me, loathsome, corrupt, and tainted; bids me look close 
and tremble at the hideous evil I have done. 

“ But there is an alternative. Yes ; away of escape lies open with- 
out treading on his corpse. He will be silent if I give him Guenever 
and a suflicient sum to live at ease. Neither would be difficult if I 
could be certain that there his demands would stop. The girl ! Well* 
some day she must know the truth. The money ! — bah ! what are a 
few thousands to me ? The real obstacle is the man himself. 

“For I could never trust him from my sight. He absent, I should 
be ever fancying he was driving a bargain to betray me. Then there 
is his connection with this, lawyer. Stark. How much does he know ? 
Where did he get his information ? Riggs again — a wretched, ignor- 
ant tool, yet dangerous — must be got rid of. No ; the alternative is 
too great a risk. 

“It must be done; and speedily, before the snake has time to 
spread its venom further. Blande gone, Riggs far away, all clue 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


219 


will be hopelessly cut off; than I can defy this rascal Stark. I<d 
better look up Riggs at once.” 

It was at this point of his meditations that the Yankee was an- 
nounced, and ushered in. 

“Sit down, my lad,” was Ralph Lee’s greeting, as he poured for 
his visitor a glass of wine. “ I’m glad you’ve come, for I was want- 
ing to see you. Well, your mind’s made up, I s’pose, about that 
little matter we talked of yesterday ? Drink your wine.” 

“Thank ye kindly, sir. My sarvice to ye, Cap’n Black — Cap’n 
Lee, I means. No oifence, I hopes', yer ’onor.” 

“Your memory’ll get you into trouble, Riggs,” warned Lee, with 
menacing, uplifted finger. “Forget, I say again, that such a man 
as Richard Blackstock — and mind, I speak that name for the last 
time — ever lived.” 

“Ay, ay, yer honor. I’ll not transgress again.” 

“Good; now listen. The matter I mentioned must be done at 
once — to-night, if opportunity offers; if not then, certainly to-morrow. 
Further delay would be most dangerous to both. Are you pre- 
pared ? ” 

“ Wall, yer honor, twor that as browt me here to-night.” answered 
Riggs, slowly, in a hesitating voice, twisting his canvas-covered 
hat nervously between his fingers. “Ef ’tis all the same to you, 
Cap’n, I’d rayther as you’d find some one else to do the job. Yer 
see, I’m under Cap’n Blande’s orders, an’ tis dead again my princi- 
ples ter ” 

“Your what? ” growled Ralph Lee, in a tone of savage irony. 
“Your principles! Since when, pray, have you taken up with prin" 
ciples ? Why, I shall have you talking of your conscience next — you, 
steeped in blood and plunder to your fingers’ ends — you, the most 
daring and unscrupulous of all my former crew. Fool 1 I tell you 
you can’t draw back even if you would. ’T is your interest, as 
strongly as mine, this fellow should be got rid of. Come, another 
glass.” 

“ Thank yer honor. When I kim to think over this here matter, 
ye see, Cap’n, it strikes me arter all you an’ me are n’t quite in the 
same boat. You may hev your grudge agin Cap’n Blande or he 
his’n agin you, but he aint the man to hurt a poor fellow as never 
did him any harm, an’ as for the money, why ’t would be a earnin’ 
on it too dear. Cap’n I durst n’t do ’t.” 


220 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE, 


Ralph Lee fcU bitterl^^ vexed at this unexpected opposition. He 
had not fought ( ow his own scruples, unaccountable as they were 
in a man of his i .o i mould, to be baffled by this miserable tool. But 
he felt the importance of conciliating Riggs. Whether tempted or 
frightened into action mattered little, but aet he must, and that 
speedily, or Ralph must give in to Oliver, which he had fully deter- 
mined could not be done. To men of this disposition obstacles are 
incentives. Difficulty rouses emulation, and spurs them on to vic- 
tory. Success would lose half its value, if too easily gained. 

“You’re on the wrong tack, m3" man, I tell v’ou,” he said in as easy 
a tone as he could command. “Your interests are bound up with 
mine in this man’s silence. Only this morning I have certain proofs 
he means to betray me to his emplo3"e'r, Stark. Should he do this, I 
fall; but, Riggs, mark! I drag you down with me.” 

“ Wall, but what hev I done to be mixed up in the consarn, Cap’n ? 
’Tis very hard on a poor salt who’s ony obeyed orders to be shoved 
into all danger.” 

“’Tis your own fault, blockhead!” returned Lee, sternly. “Had 
you but clapped a stopper on that blabbing tongue, nothing would 
have been known. Now you mUvSt pay the penalty.” 

“I ony answered questions I was axed.” 

“You did far more. That would have been bad enough, but you 
went further, else where did Blande get the whole Warhawk story ? 
’Tis no use, my man; you’re trapped, and there’s but one way out. 
And what’s your mighty hardship, I should like to know ? ” 

“Well, the danger, Cap, the risk. Suppose I’m cdlched,you know 
what’lj happen. A — a — ah! it gives meaerickin theneektothink on.” 

And Riggs passed his great hand round his brawny throat with 
an air of vast dismay. 

“Of course I know, but then you won’t be caught. You can’t be, 
unless you make some stupid blunder. I’m letting you off ver3"eas3", 
my man, I can tell you. In place of revenging myself for your 
treacherv, I onl3'' ask a trifling ser>rice, for which you’ll be magnifi- 
cenH3" paid. Fifty men would jump at the offer, but I choose to 
have the matter done by you. There’s no escape, mind. With me, 
and reward ; against me, and we sink together. Take your choice.” 

There is a wonderful power in sheer persistence. Constant drop- 
ping, says Poor Richard, wears away stones. Indomitable perse- 
verance — the faculty that makes the baffled man coolly re-collect his 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


221 


scattered forces, and march on steadily again to attack the difficulty 
from which he has just been beaten back — is probably a finer quality 
than even original genius itself. At any rate, it carries its possessor 
more frequently on to triumph. 

In the present case, Ralph Lee’s continual repetition that Riggs’s 
interests were inseparably bound up with his, and that the safety of 
both depended upon the removal of Blande, at last convinced the 
Yankee that he had now gone too far to recede. His native shrewd- 
ness indeed led him to suspect he was merely being u.sed as a tool ; 
that other and stronger causes existed for Lee’s hostility than such 
as had been stated. But it was utterly beyond his power to pene- 
trate to their core. In Lee’s tremendous clutch, he was as helpless 
as a babe in the grasp of a giant. Volition and free-will had alike 
departed. Blind, di2Z3^ and confused, he yielded at last, after much 
further remonstrance, brushed aside by Ralph as a man whisks 
away a troublesome fly, and consented to do what was required. 

“ ’Tis your wisest course, my man,” remarked Ralph, quietl3^ after 
the reluctant consent had been extorted. “ But I’m afraid your ob- 
stinacy has lost valuable time. Stay you here. Lock the door in 
my absence, and admit no one till I return. Meantime here’s wine, 
there are cigars; help yourself.” 

He was absent about an hour, during which Riggs improved the 
occasion after his own peculiar fashion. Enjo^^ment of the luxuries 
provided was so agreeable that his repugnance to the ” orkard job ” 
imposed upon him, as he phrased it, grew less with every minute. 

“Wall,” he soliloquised, finally blowing from him the smoke of a 
magnificent puro in a heavy cloud, “all said an’ done, ’t will be 
worth risking a trifle for. Ef there’s a chap in Melbourne wi’ chiccr 
wine an’ better ’baccer an’ more splendiferous fixins jinerally this 
lime six months than Aby Riggs, call me the biggest bungler as ever 
fired a six-shooter. Sorry for Cap, but it carn’t be helped. A man’s 
own skin’s more preshous than his neighbor’s. I’ll let him down 
easy — take him jist atween the eyes, and he’ll hardly know how he’s 
wiped ouf. — Cornin’, Cap’n cornin’” he added, as Ralph’s cautions, 
but impatient, knock was heard at the door. 


222 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE, 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

OUT SHOOTING. 

“I hope you’re in good walking trim this morning, Blande,” was 
Will Blythe’s greeting when the two met according to appointment 
outside Paston. 

“Why so?” 

“ Well, it’s a good six miles from here to Fairfax. Say six or eight 
tramping about the place and through the woods, and six more 
home. Eighteen miles at a stretch is a tolerable pull fora town-bred 
chap, I reckon.” 

“Tell you what, Master Will,” retorted Oliver, rather nettled 
“I’ll walk you from here to Fairfax, fair toe and heel, for a couple 
-bottles o’ wine. What do ye say ? ” 

“Done! ” said Will, heartily, with all a genuine Englishman’s love 

They carried their guns — these young fellows — upon their shoul- 
ders, and thus were tolerably burdened. Blande however had only 
a fowling-piece, while Will Blythe bore a double-barrel, giving the 
former an advantage. In other respects they seemed fairly matched. 
Both were tall, vigorous, and in the prime of early manhood. Oliver 
was perhaps naturally the stronger of the two, but the difference 
was balanced by his companion’s more firmly-knit sinews, and ‘the 
hardy frame resulting from a well-spent life in pure air. 

P'or the first couple of miles they kept shoulder to shoulder, each 
going well “within himself” — a curious phrase I take to mean, 
easily, without putting forth his utmost speed. Then the myster 
ious process of getting “second wind” caused Oliver to lag just im- 
perceptibly behind. 

“Aha!” cried Will, triumphantly. “Bellows to mend! ” 

“Not a bit !” shouted Oliver; shook himself together, and drew 
level again. 

At mile-post the third Oliver put on a sudden spurt, was clear of 
Will in a second, and forging rapidly ahead. Will let out magnifi- 
cently, collared his rival in half-a-dozen strides, smiled equably, and 
kept up the pace. Oliver slackened ; so did Will, 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


223 


A little to soon, my boy, quoth the latter. 

On for another mile, steadily, regularly, pace for pace, neither 
gaining an inch, both apparently as fresh as at starting, save that 
a watchful eye might have detected a slight increase in the towns- 
man’s breathing, while Will respired as evenly and noiselessly as a 
well-oiled automaton. 

“ Through the next gate to the right, and along the field,” directed 
Will. 

Both quickened their pace now, as it was evident that whoever 
reached the gate first would gain an advantage. Putting out all 
his speed, Blande arrived at the desired point a second in advance. 

“Done you this time, old fdlow!” he shouted, passing leisurely 
through. “ By Jove, that is n’t fair! ” 

This last exclamation was produced by seeing Will clear the 
hedge at the side — a good five-feet standing jump — including widish 
ditches at back and front, and land in the field before Oliver had 
passed the gate. 

“ Quite fair,” retorted Will. “ I never ran a step.” 

Nor had he, but the jump decided the race. It placed Will on the 
trodden foot-path, while Oliver was compelled to plod along the 
plowed land at the side. Five minutes of this work was enough. 

“I give it up! ” he panted, breathless, and sat down to rest upon 
a stile. 

The perspiration poured down his heated face in streams ; his 
breast labored and worked like the chest of a man in a fever ; he was 
utterly exhausted, feeble and powerless. A child at that moment 
might have prostrated him with a touch of its tiny hand. Will 
stood beside him pityingly. 

“ If I’d thought it would have pumped you out so much, I would n’t 
have raced,” said he. 

“Oh! I shall — be — all — right — presently,” puffed Oliver, surveying 
him with an eye of envy. “By Jove! You don’t seem to have 
turned a hair! How the deuce do you manage it ? ” 

“ Don’t know, I’m sure,” said simple Will with a modest blush. 
“ Early rising and hard work, I s’pose. Look ! we’re just at Fairfax. 
There’s the Lodge yonder, peeping through the trees.” 

Seated upon the next stile over which the companions had to 
pass, carelessly swinging its legs to and fro and munching a mighty 


224 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


lump of bacon and bread, was a singularly dirty ragamuffin figure, 
that seemed familiar to both. 

“Shvy poor Billy a copper, yer honors! ” was the exclamation that 
greeted them as they drew near “Times is mad, an’ wages is bad, 
an’ vhenever yer vants ’em they ain’t to be ’ad. Shy us a copper, 
my noble svells.” 

“Why, Billy,” said William Blythe, “where did you spring from? 
Have n’t seen you about these parts this long time. Here ’s a trifle 
to help you on a bit, old man.” 

“ Arrah, sure an’ ’tis yer honor’s a real friend to the horphinx an’ 
the eastavay,” exclaimed Billy in a strong Irish accent improvised for 
the occasion. “An’ is there nothink I can dew to obleege ye in re- 
tarn ? ’av’ a bit o’ bacon ? ” 

The impudent leer was irresistibly eomic with which he thrust 
his chunk of brawn, bearing the unmistakeable nature-print of an 
extremely grimy thumb, close underneath Will’s nose. Both the 
friends burst into a roar of laughter. 

“Thank you, Billy. I’ve breakfasted already,” was Will’s reply. 

“ Av yer now ? Veil, p’r’aps this other noble svell ’ud Mke a chaw. 
Don’t take it all, guv’nor. Bite up to my thumb. Yhat, yer von’t ? 
Yell then, vot can I do for yer? I’ll give yer a little advice.” 

“ What sort of advice, Billy ? ” 

“Yby, legal advice, to be sure. My perfeshional opinion, as a 
counsel learned in the lor.” 

“And charge a couple of guineas for it, I suppose,” laughed Will 
Blythe. 

“Divil a haporth! Free, gratis, hall for nothink. You two gents 
’as been kind to Billy — kind, ah! up to a bob apiece — an’ Billy’s 
agoin’ to be kind to you. Ah! he’s a grateful cove, is Billy an’ a 
knowin’!” 

“Well, go ahead, my good fellow,” said Oliver, impatiently. 
‘‘Don’t keep us here all day.” 

“Ah now, is it in a hurry ye are. Captain? Bless us there’s ’caps 
o’ time for the little job you’ re arter. Let the hares an’ rabbits kick 
up their poor little ’eels and be jolly. Their fives is as precious to 
them, mayhap, as yourn to you.” 

“ Come, come, what is it you want ? Make haste. ” 

“Sure an’ ain’t I spakin all I can ? Don’t ye pop the little beggars 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


225 


over to-day now, don’t. Let ’em live an’ cut about. Take a fool’s 
advice for once, my noble swells, an’ ye won’t repint it, maybe.” 

“What does the fellow mean?” ejaculated Oliver, looking at Will 
with surprise. 

“Rum-dtim-diddle-dutn-de-roo-dum-die, 

The black man nibbled tip the white man’s eye,” 

chanted Billy, “He w^re a beast, he were, that darkey. Fat bacon 
’s a jolly sight nicer. Now look ’ee ’ere, my nobs. I’m been a wi.. i’*d 
I am. Private an’ perticklar body magician to the king of all the 
Prooshias. I ’m a ’strologer, a halchemist, a philosopher, an’ a 
prophet. I ’ll cast your horryscopes in a pot o’ beer an’ tell yer wot 
ain’t a goin’ to ’appen yesterday. Likevise vot am. I wouldn’t go 
a shootin’ to-day if I vos you. Tain’t ’olesome. The flasks is chock- 
full o’ the best gunpowder at four-an’-nine an’ the capses vorranted 
to blow off the noble sportsmen’s bunch of fives. Sitch is the per- 
diction o’ the Prophet Billy.” 

Oliver looked at the man attentively. There was an earnestness 
in his manner, disguised under the apparent absurdity of his words, 
that impressed at least one of the listeners strongly. 

“Go on. Will,” said Oliver; I’ve a word to say to this fellow. I’ll 
overtake you presently.” 

“The white gate over to the left is the entrance” answered Will. 
“I ’ll wait for you there.” And he struck out across the field. 

“Now, my man, what is the meaning of this?” asked Oliver, 
sternly. “ Speak out, quick and to the purpose. You can if you 
like, I know.” 

“ I shall, yer honor,” returned Billy, dropping his jocularity in a 
moment, like a mask and knuckling his forehead respectfully. There ’s 
danger ahead, ayther to you or t’other gent. That Yankee cove ’s 
on the look-out, an’ I ’spex he means mischief.” 

“What makes you think so ? Tell me all you know.^* 

“In a chow him an’ I ’ad down town it corned out some big swell 
hoffered him a pot ’o tin to ‘ silence ’ a party. He was close as wax, 
an’ would n’t mention names. But he was werry tight as veil, and 
Billy knows a thing or two. Thinks I, this child must votch. ’Bout 
dusk last night he goes hout to that ’ere rummy-looking crib where 
you’re a stayin’ at. Cap.” 

“Yes, yes. The Towers. Well what then ? ” 


226 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


“There he stops a couple o’ ’onrs. Vhen he corned hout there vos 
a tall, dark gent vith him I never see afore.” 

“Broad-shouldered, with large whiskers? Steps out firmly and 
bold ; has a stern, deep voice ? Was that the man ? ” 

“That’s his pictur. Cap, to an ’air. I sees yer knows ’m.” 

“Lee, by heavens?” ejaculated Oliver, excitedly. “Well, go on! ” 

“ They did n’t twig me, acos I kep close utTder the shadder ’o the 
bushes in the shrubbery. The gent left the ’all door hopen, an’ I 
could see a little by the lamp. He valks a few steps along the path 
with Aby, I a crawlin’ arter. Presently he stops an’ ses : ‘ You know 
now what to do, the time and place. Be careful not to lose the air- 
gun, it might be recognized as mine. When all is over, get across at 
once to Lowestoft; wait at the house I’ve told you of until I come. 
In a fortnight at furthest we shall be safe out at sea.’ The gent he 
vent in, an’ Aby back to Lynn.” 

“A precious plot!” exclaimed Oliver, impetuously pacing to and 
fro. “So that was the reason of Lee’s apparent amiability when 
he came up after dinner yesterday. That explains his perfidious 
smile when I told Guenever of this morning’s excursion. Artful dis- 
sembler! And I had nearly fallen into the snare! Well, my man,” 
he continued, “ what more? ” 

“In course I vos n’t fly to who Aby vos arter, altho’ I’d fun out 
vot his little game vos. So I votches ’im this momin’ still. I ’ve 
tracked him into the voods yonder, vhere he ’s a lyin’ in hambush 
now. Thinks I, a puttin’ this an’ that together, if I vaits ’ere I 
shall see hall as comes up. If it ’s a gent I knows, I varns ’im ; if ’t 
is a strange bloke, ’taint no consarn o’ mine. Moment I sees you. 
Cap, I knows vot ’s o’clock. An’ that ’s the ’ole story. Hain’t got a 
chaw o’ baccy about you yer don’t vant, has yer. Cap? If it’s a 
veed even, I’d not mind smokin’ on ’im.” 

“Take these, my man,” returned Oliver, emptying his cigar-case 
into Billy’s ready palm. “ You ’ve done excellent service to-day, for 
which I’ll see you amply paid. Trust me for baffling master 
Riggs.” 

He turned away as he spoke, and went on to join his friend. 
The sound of Billy’s boisterous thanks and double shuffle of intense 
delight accompanied him till out of hearing. 

“A precious long yarn that chap ’s been spinning you,” remarked 
Will. “ What was it all about ? ” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


227 


“Oh, only a request to get him employment in town. He’s tired 
of his vagrant life, it seems. I know the fellow of old.” 

“ Can 3^ou do an3^thing for him ? ” 

“Very likely. But these sort of people alwa^^s have such a lot to 
say, never know when to stop. I must see.” 

They had reached the Lodge during the exchange of these few 
sentences. Inquiring for Mr. Fairfax, it appearedhe was not within. 
“ He had received a sudden call to town,” said the servant, ‘ but had 
left orders Mr. Blythe and his friend should have free access to all 
parts of the place. ” 

They availed themselves of the permission. Will, who had been 
here before, conducted Oliver over the house and out-buildings 
showed him the pleasure-grounds, and took him through the farm. 
Attached to the estate were some forty acres, woodland and covert 
mostly, which they were told would be found well-stocked with 
game. A keeper and a couple of beaters had been ordered to accom- 
pany the gentlemen if they wished to enter the preserves. Eager for 
sport. Will at once proposed they should try their fortune, and 
Oliver agreed. 

Knowing the danger in which he stood, it was not singular that 
Blande should be more bent upon searching the surrounding wood 
for the enemy he knew to be lurking behind the foliage, than intent 
upon the ostensible object in which they were engaged. His keen 
eyes swept the glades and paths in every direction, but without 
finding traces of the man he sought. his characteristic caution 

never left him. Wherever he saw a clump or a bush he thought sus- 
picious, a beater was sent in before he would venture near. He shot 
little, and, pre-occupied as he was, that little badly. So badly in- 
deed as to call forth Will’s banter and awaken the silent disgust 
the keeper for the Cocknev gun. But, not unwisely, Oliver preferred 
becoming the target for his friend’s good humored jokes to exposing 
himself to the chances of a deadlier aim. 

They had traversed the wood in every direction save one, and 
had made up a tolerable bag. Will was in high glee at his own suc- 
cess, and “chaffed” his friend proportionatel3\ 

“By Jove, Blande,” he cried, “I shall have a higher opinion of my 
old bit of ordnance than ever. Clumsy as it is, it seems to do more 
execution than that slim, elegant affair of yours. It is n’t the most 
sho wy-looking racer that alw^ays pulls off the plate, old bo3% after all, ” 


228 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


Oliver made a good-humored retort, and the party went on to 
the as yet unexplored portion of the wood. This was a kind of glen 
through which ran a narrow, but rapid stream. It was bordered 
upon one side by thicket, on the other by tall ferns and gorse, both 
obviously affording excellent cover for game. Where quadrupeds 
can hide, however, so can man. It was at once clear to Oliver that 
it must he here, if anywhere, the enemy was concealed. His plan 
was formed in an instant. 

Oliver, Will, and the keeper took up their stations behind a small 
clump of bushes at the head of the ravine, and sent the beaters into 
the fern. A couple of hares and a rabbit fell next moment to the 
three guns. Reloading rapidly, Oliver hastily whispered to his 
friend his intention of driving out what might be found in the thicket, 
and disappeared. Subduing his momentary astonishment, Will was 
on the alert. 

Blande’s judgment had not deceived him. The thicket he was 
now cautiously approaching in the rear had been selected by Riggs 
for ambush, and the Yankee thought the favorable time for his 
attempt had now arrived. 

‘‘When they pops agin’s the time,” he whispered. Then I’ll let 
him hev it under kiver o’ the smoke.” 

He had not long to wait. The shouts and blows of the beaters, 
with their heav3^ sticks, started a couple more hares, one of which 
was knocked over by Will. The keeper missed. 

Crouching among the brushwood and dead leaves surrounding 
the hazel stems, Riggs took a careful aim at the tall figure he thought 
was Oliver, half hidden behind the clump of bushes, and pressed the 
trigger. With a cry of pain the figure fell forward prone upon its 
face. 

Riggs peered out eagerly through the interlacing twigs. 

“ Hit ! ” he muttered. ” That ’s sartin ; but whether wiped out or 
not ’s the question. The smoke ’s so durned blindin’. Hows’ever I 
must make tracks.” 

A strong hand upon his collar at this instant drew him roughh' 
backward, while another, thrUvSt over his shoulder, grasped the gun. 
Taken by surprise as he was, Riggs had sufficient command of him- 
self not to utter a cry. Twisting suddenly from under his captor’s 
grasp, he found himself standing face to face with Oliver Blande. 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


229 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

AMONG THE PHILISTINES. 



While these events were taking place at Lynn ; while necessity of 
self-preservation — that awful motive power in an unprincipled man’s 
life— seemed closing in upon Oliver Blande, and urging him on to a deed 
whose full atrocity even he was incapable of estimating, life at his 
employer’s chambers in Clement’s Inn apparently pursued its dull, 
unvarying round. 

To an uninitiated eye, nothing could have appeared more every- 
day and common-place than busineSvS transactions at this legal mill. 
The ordinary grist that unscrupulous men of the law grind out of 
their clients’ follies seemed all that was obtained, The usual snares 
to trap long-winded debtors; the general advice to carry on 
and press a hopeless suit with all devices of chicane; the grand 
facilities for raising money at interest so trifling as hardly to be 
worthy mention put forth to tempt necessitous spendthrifts; the 
servile politness exhibited towards foolish lads known to have good 
expectations; the prompt readiness with which the mask was 
thrown off, and the teeth displayed in an ugly snarl when the victim 
was thought fairly caged — all the so-called “legitimate” business of 
the firm went on as it had done for years. And, simultaneously, 
winding beneath thesurface, also flowed on thefoul and slimy under- 
current of the darker, more productive, yet far more dangerous, 
schemes in which the brooding principal engaged. 

It was never Stark’s practice to go rapidly to his end. He loved 
his odious task, and gloated over its performance and its details as 
a miser lets his beloved gold stream through his fingers, ora surgeon 
wrapt up in his art traces the ravages of a new disease with unpity- 
ing scalpel, lingering over the shrinking flesh in search of unknown 
indications, loath to tear himself away. Family secrets and shame- 
ful scandals, at which an honorable mind would have disdained to 
glance, it was this man’s custom to pry into and probe to the quick; 
only too happy if he could detect the period when pride or folly, ex- 
travagance or passion, passed the fatal gate where probity and 


230 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


honor cease their swaj, and stepped aeross the threshold into crime. 

Knowledge of this sort, once gained, was truly power. From the 
hotir in which he acquired it, Stark held the wrong doer in his merci- 
less clutch. Master and lord, he kept the sword of Damocles per- 
petually suspended over his victim’s head, to threaten fall at his 
good pleasure. Present immunity was only to be bought by gold, 
by service, by the sacrifice of whatever the despot chose to ask ; but 
he never relaxed his hold upon his prey sufficiently to suffer total 
escape. There were men — ay, and women too — occupying high posi- 
tions in the world, respected, looked up to, admired as shining lights 
and exemplars, honored and revered, who thanked Heaven with 
more devout and fervent gratitude than they had ever felt, the night 
they heard this man had gone to his aceount, taking his many 
secrets unrevealed with him into his shroud. 

When we came upon him now, he is anxious and ill at ease. As 
much so, that is to say, as he ever appears. Racked by the doubts 
with which he is beset, a man less firm in mind would be unable to 
settle to any kind- of work. Stark only displays anxiety by more 
tightly compressed lips and increased harshness towards those in 
his power. 

“Most unaccountable!” you might hear him mutter. “Two days 
gone without a word from Blande. This is the third — still not a sign. 
T he fellow sent to see after Riggs has not returned. Two men upon 

this expedition now besides the principal. And he — yes, he ” 

His voice died away into an unintelligible murmur. Presently he 
raised his head and called Tiptoft, in a harsh, grating voice. The 
tone vibrated upon the ear like the rasping of a file upon a saw. Nat 
instantly appeared at the door. 

“You’re certain these were all this morning’s letters?” inquired 
the master, holding up some half-a-dozen papers. 

“All that arrived were laid upon your desk, sir,” returned Nat in a 
tone of injured innocence. 

“You ’re sure — quite sure. Tax your memory again. Mistakes 
have happened, remember, Tiptoft.” 

“Not this time anyhow,” mumbled the clerk. 

“ What’s that you say ? ” 

“There’s no mistake now— sir,” repeated Nat in a raised voice, 
with injured innocence this time very strongly developed. 

“ Hm 1 Well, may-be. So much the better for you. Go I ” 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


231 


Nat carefully closed the door and returned to his books.. After a 
few minutes’ labor, he glanced from the comer of his eye at the 
private door, then gradually came upright. 

“Oh, you image! ” he ejaculated under his breath, shaking his fist 
malevolently in the direction of his employer. “You hard, uncon- 
scionable, cruel old paving-stone I trust you for kicking a fellow when 
you think you’ve got him down. ‘Go!’ says he, just in the tone 
he’d use to a dog. Worse, perhaps, and more insulting. He’d be 
alraid the dog might bite: he knows I shan’t. Wait a bit, m\^ 
friend. Mysterious matters are going on, I can see. Matters I 
shrewdly suspect would not bear the light. Let me but get a 
glimpse at one of them, and then ”• 

Nat’s soliloquy at this point was interrupted by the entrance of 
Funks. It was this worthy’s peculiarity always to speak in abrupt 
jerks, as if either breath or courage were wanting to deliver his ideas 
in a connected form. 

“Man wants — see guv’nor. In ?” panted Funks. 

Nat picked up his ears. * ‘ A man ? What’s his name ? Have you 
seen him before ? ” 

“ Don’t know — name. Recollect face. Let him in? ” 

“No; I’ll come and speak to him,” was Nat’s reply. 

Always oppressed, since his late defeat at the hands of Stark, 
with a smarting sense of humiliation that spurred him on to try to 
gain an insight into some of his employer’s many secrets, Nat was 
making for the door when his way was suddenly barred by the back- 
ing figure of Funks. 

The clerk was trying to prevent the entrance of a tall man in a 
pea-jacket with cap slouched over his eyes, who seemed disposed to 
carry admission by storm. 

“Can’t go in — tell you,” protested Funks, both hands against the 
intruder’s breast, but steadily pushed back step by step. “Must n’t, 
’gainst orders. What’s name? No admission ’cept on business, 
f ^op or fetch police.” 

“ Fetch away, tallerchops! ” retorted the new-comer, striding on. 
‘‘Guv’nor ’ll see this child, I knows. Hilloa, Muster! ” — this to Nat 
— “jist tell your boss Abe Riggs is kim back.” 

Roused by the clamor, Stark at this moment opened the door of 
his room, and peered forth. 

“Aha, Riggs!” he exclaimed. “The very man I wanted to see. 


232 • 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


Step this way. Tiptoft I ’m busy, remember. Admit no one for at 
least an hour.’’ 

The door was slammed, and locked. Nat waited a moment, then 
with an ease that showed considerable practice dropped on his knee 
and glued his ear to the keyhole. After a minute or two’s anxious 
listening he rose and shook his head. 

“No go! ” he whispered. “Left the key straight, so that I can't 
hear a word. Artful dodger! Stop a bit. We’ll do old Blackface 
yet. Now for the little plan in such cases made and provided.’’ 

Taking from his de? k a couple of oblong parchments, Nat march( d 
into the outer office and summoned Funks. 

“This is to be ser^'ed directly,” he said. “Address, Bermondsey. 
If defendant is n’t in, hang about till he comes. Twitter, another for 
you at Poplar. Same order. Cut away both of you at once. I ’ll 
answer the door.” 

The two grey, shabby figures in rusty black grasped at their 
mouldy hats, then looked at Nat expressively ; each drew the ba<k 
of his hand significantly before his mouth. 

“Oh, ah, yes, of course,” said the manager, amiably. “The usual 
allowance. Here you are. Cut along.” 

Each shabby figure tossed on its rain-striped, greasy" head-dress, 
fumbled a moment in its waistcoat pocket, then shambled leisurely 
away. 

“Got rid of them forthe day,” was Nat’s reflection. “Now to pre- 
vent interruption. The old formula. ‘Just gone out. Return in 
half-an-hour.’ Wafer him on the door outside, so, and turn the key 
from the inside, so. That’s done. Now to business.” 

A high shelf ran along the end wall of the inner counting-house 
and passed above the door leading into Stark’s private room. It 
was loaded with disused ledgers, out-of-date directories, old law 
books, and works of reference only at times required. Having occa- 
sion some weeks previously to take down some of the ledgers, Nat 
made a discovery he saw at once might prove of use. 

There had been a little window in former days between this room 
and Stark’s, and the small square framework still remained, but 
papered over and thus concealed. It had occurred to Nat that by 
judiciously availing himself of the aperture, he could establish a 
system of surveillance over his employer. He had spent an entire 
evening after office hours in rendering the place available. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


233 


Raising his small person to the required height by plaeing a series 
of direetories upon an offiee stool, he opened the trap, and at once 
became an unsuspected listener to the conversation between Riggs 
and Stark. Nay, he was an eye-witness also of whatever might be 
going on. For, as luck would have it, the aperture was hidden from 
view upon Stark’s side of the wall by a grim portrait of some legal 
celebrity, long since passed to the limbo reserved for that particular 
kind of soul. The eye of this head had been made in stage language, 
“practicable,” thatistosay, the canvas eye could be flapped back, 
and a human orb substituted in its place. 

Like a skilled general, though confident in the excellence of his 
tactics, Nat had taken as he thought every precaution against dis- 
covery or defeat. The outer office door being locked his rear was 
was secure against surprise. Should the enemy attack in front, his 
attitude might attract notice, but could hardly arouse suspicion — he 
was searching for a book of reference upon the shelf. Triumphant 
and secure, the spy grinned with delight upon the summit of his 
directories at the idea of outwitting Albany Stark. 

When Nat mounted his perch, Riggs had arrived in his confession 
at the stage where he had been prevailed upon by Ralph Lee to 
undertake to “silence” Blande. 

“Stop!” ejaculated Stark, abruptly. “Let’s have that again. 
This Lee, your old commander, offered you a large bribe to do away 
with Captain Blande. Why ? ” 

“Durnd ef I can make out, guv’nor, replied puzzled Riggs, with an 
air of bewilderment. “ ’Tis sitch a mass o’ confusion as I don’t pur. 
tind to understand. He did offer, that ’s sartin, an’ kep me to the 
bargin arterwards.” 

“ Do you know of any quarrel between them ? ” 

“Niver a word, ’cept that Cap’n Black — thatis ter say, Cap’n Lee 
— wor awful mad wi’ me for heving let out to Cap’n Blande about 
the IFar/ja w/r job.” 

“What was that? But nevermind now; we ’ll hear that after- 
wards. Go on with your story.” 

In his usual rambling fashion, Riggs brought his narrative up to 
the point when, after firing from his ambush, he found himself in the 
grasp of Oliver Blande. 

“Hm!” remarked Stark. “A pretty business. So you hit the 
wrong man. Is he dead ? ” 


234 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


‘‘Thank the Lord, no, yer honor!” was the fervent reply. “Jist 
touched a bit deep in the fleshy part o’ the arm, but nothin’ to speak 
on.* How I missed ’im I dont know. ’T was the fault o’ that new- 
fangled shooting-iron, I s’pose. But ’t is durnd lucky, anyhow.” 

“For you certainly,” returned Stark cooly. ” Had the man died, 
I should have handed you over to the police at once. Murderers are 
useless to me, especially bungling ones. You carry a stick I see. Is 
that the implement ? ” 

“That ’s 'im, yer honor’s lordship,” stuttered Riggs, greatly dis- 
mayed at his employer’s comment. “This is how she works. You 
lift up this ’ere little flap, and presses ” 

“I know,” said Stark, quietl3% taking the air-gun from his sub- 
ordinate and placing it in a corner of the room. ‘‘Valuables as 
evidence against Lee, if required; go on. How did you escape after 
this precious bit of rascality ? ” 

“Wall, yer honor, I ’d ha’ been a gone ’coon but for Cap’n Blande. 
\v^hen t’other gent fell, an’ the keeper found he was hurt, without 
knowin’ how ’t had kim about, hevin’ heerd no report nor nothin’, 
him an’ the beaters was for sarchin’ the wood. But Cap’n said: 

‘ No. The first thing to be done is to get my poor friend medical aid. 
How he received his hurt is little matter. Most likely from his own 
gun, somehow; but that can be investigated afterwards. Two of 
you take him on to the house, the other be oif for a doctor without 
delay. I’ll search the wood, and follow.’ 

“ When the\' had all gone, Cay’n kirns back to me. ‘ Yos’ve had a 
narrow escape of 3"Our life, you fool,’ses he. ‘Did you think I was n’t 
up to you and your wretched scheme? Now do as I bid, or I ’ll 
give you up at once. Get across without delay to Liverpool, and 
ship for New York. Here’s money. With this and what you have 
received from Lee, you’re well provided. Go this instant. If I hear of 
you in England again, you ’re a lost man ! ’ With that he left. 

“Thinks I: That ’s all very well, but without Mr. Stark’s permis- 
sion I durstn’t stir a peg. My best course is to git straight up to 
Lunnun, an’ make a clean breast on it. He ’s a kind master i’ the 
main, thof he be a bit strict and stern. If any one can see this child 
thro’ this ’ere bisness, ’tis him. So ’ere I be guv’nor, an’ I ’opes yer 
von't be werymad ’bout my hevin’ gone a bit on my own hook. Will 
yer now? ” 

Albany Stark strode thoughtfully across the room without reply, 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


235 


his hands clasped upon his back, and hisbrows knitin reflection until 
they quite obscured his eyes. Riggs followed him step for step with 
anxious glance and humble mien, as a penitent dog with a stolen 
bone upon his conscience furtively surveys his master. 

“What can have been Blande’s motive ? muttered Stark. “ Why 
did he want to get this fellow out of the country ? There^s more 
going on here than I see yet. He ’s following up a game of his own 
instead of playing mine. This must be looked to.” 

“Yer honor won’t be hard on a poor cove, will yer now?” 
entreated Riggs. “I knows I ’d no right to try a stroke o’ bisness 
on my own account, but the prospecks was dressed up so all-fired 
temptin’ an’ Cap’n Lee swore as how ” 

“ Harkey, fellow,” interrupted Stark, turning suddenly upon the 
suppliant. “I’ll get you out of your scrape on one condition, 
although by rights I should let you pay the penalty of disobeying 
orders. I must have the whole of that Warhawk story, word for 
word, exactly as you related it to Captain Blande. Nothing must 
be kept back, mind, or I surrender you at once. Begin — and beware! ” 
Glad to be pardoned on such easy terms, Riggs readily complied. 
As he proceeded, light began gradually to dawn into his employer’s 
mind. His keen intelligence, his practised astuteness in combining 
motives and results led him, although previously quite unacquainted 
with the subject, to come very near the actual truth as to Oliver’s 
object in trying to make terms with Lee. He stopped the progress 
of the narrative from time to time, asking questions and making 
notes of the leading points and dates, for subsequent search. By the 
time the story was concluded, it was clear to Stark that his agent 
had been acting on his own behalf. 

“For a reason not yet evident,” he reflected, “he had negotiated 
with Lee, probably with a threat. Thence the latter’s desire for his 
removal. The plot failing, Blande’s eagerness to get this fellow off 
is explained. The knowledge of Lee’s previous career should be con- 
fined to him. By heaven ! — a master-stroke. This youngster grows 
dangerous ; I must be on my guard. — Well, what is it ? ” 

“Ax pardon, guv’nor,” responded Riggs humbly, “but I should 
just like to know summut.” 

“What is it, man ? ” 

“ ’Bout that ere pictur, yer honor,” returned the sailor, pointing 


236 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


to the portrait. “ ’Tis only a pictur, in coorse, but I durned ef ’t 
ain’t been a vinkin its lieye at me this last five minnits.” 

Stark gazed in the direction indicated, and noticed the unmis- 
takeable sparkle of a human orb in place of the dead fishy-hued optic 
depicted by the painter. While they looked, the eye gradually disap- 
peared, and the pupil usually on duty returned to its post. 

At this instant, the sound of a heavy body falling with a bump 
was heard in the room without. 

Stark threw open the door in a second, and beheld Tiptoft, an 
overthrown stool, and several ponderous volumes in aconfused heap. 
Alarmed at the impending discovery, Nat had been too eager to 
descend from his post of ’vantage, and had come to unexpected grief. 

Stark’s quick eye penetrated the position of affairs at a glance. 
He pounced on Nat and hauled him up by the collar. 

“ Mind this rascal, Riggs ! ” he exclaimed, handing over the captive. 
“There’s some mischief been doing here.” 

He jumped upon the stool, and began to explore the shelf laden 
with books. Intent upon examination, he had little leisure to not- 
ice the struggle that began between Nat and Riggs. It was of short 
duration, and, contrary to what might have been expected ended in 
the former’s favor, Adroitly kicking the sailor’s legs from under 
him while his eye was following Stark’s researches, Nat succeeded 
in freeing himself from the detaining clutch. Before either of his less 
agile opponents could manage to overtake him, he reached the door, 
threw it hastily open, clattered down the stairs into the Inn garden, 
and in a minute was hopelessly beyond pursuit. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


SURVEYING THE GROUND. 

It was not in the nature of things that Oliver Blande should be 
contented with the partial victory he had gained over Lee. He felt 
much in the position of a traveler unacquainted with the country, 
traversing marshy and treacherous ground. An agile spring had 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


237 


carried him safely over one deceptive quagmire by which he had 
been nearly swallowed up, but fresh dangers impended, and whether 
these could be escaped was matter for serious doubt. 

With an active and keen-witted enemy like Ralph Lee, it was ob- 
vious that the failure of his attempt upon Oliver, through Riggs, 
would but spur him on to further effort. As Stark’s acuteness had 
at once perceived, it was a master-stroke in this position to have 
got the Yankee out of the field, but Oliver felt that this was not by 
any means enough. Fresh instruments, even more unscriii^ulous 
and daring, might be found, whom he would not escape. Lee’s at- 
tention must, if possible, be drawn off from the matter in hand 
until he (Oliver) had quitted the neighborhood. Yet he dared not 
leave his post without orders. What could be done to insure safety 
so long as he remained ? 

These various thoughts coursed and re-coursed in all their differ- 
ent ramifications through Oliver’s mind while he was driving Will 
Blande — whose hurt, though severe, had been declared not danger- 
ous-over to the Grange. 

As was but natural. Will exhausted himself in indignant conject- 
ures as to the author of his wound. It was a difficult task for 
Oliver, with his mind engaged upon the risks of his own position, to 
satisfy his friend without arousing suspicion. To effect this, success- 
fully, it was essential, in sporting phrase, to trail a “drag” across 
the line of scent. 

“You know, my dear boy,” suggested Oliver, “one of your barrels 
did burst just at the moment you were hit. Your piece of ordnance, 
you admitted, was rather ancient. Now, with all deference to the 
medical opinion, I certainly think it far more likely a piece of the 
metal did the mischief than a shot.” 

“A bit of barrel makes a ragged hole,” returned Will. “This was 
clean and went clear through. Besides, I don’t remember the bar: el 
bursting at all. Yes, I see it has gone, but it didn’t when 1 fired, 
and I was hit after that.” 

“Well, you see, in the confusion of the moment you could hardly 
tell.” 

Will shook his head incredulously. It would havs been odd if he 
could have been over-persuaded, but the manoevre was daring 
enough. The fact was that, after Will had been conveyed to the 


238 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


Lodge, Oliver, by a device known to those familiar with fire-arms, 
had quietly burst the barrel himself to account for the injury. 

“ As for your having been hit by any one lurking in the wood,*^ 
continued Oliver,. “I put it to your own common sense, my dear fel- 
low, whether that notion isn’t utterly preposterous. If we were in 
Ireland now, some diseontented Paddywhack might have tried his 
hand upon the onraysonable baste of a Saxon as bothered him for 
the rint. But here, in quiet Norfolk. Pooh! the thing’s absurd! 
Besides, I searched every inch of the ground, and not a soul was to 
be seen. 

“ That ’s all very well,” persisted Will. ‘‘I only know there’s a 
round hole through my arm the doctor says was made by a bullet. 
Where it came from, I can’t say.” 

“Nor I,” returned his friend, “ but remember, doctors are not in- 
fallible, — especially in the country.” 

There the conversation dropped. Though Will was not by any 
means convinced, a certain amount of doubt had been infused into 
his mind. But his wildest dreams never led him to entertain sus- 
picion of his friend. Upon Oliver’s sincerity and good faith he built 
as steadfastly as upon a rock, for the loyal, honest nature is slow to 
think ill of its neighbor. Kindly and straightforward, fair, just, up- 
right in all his dealings, and curiously single-minded, the young 
farmer’s limited intercourse with the world had left him hitherto in 
ignorance of the ugly difference so often existing between a pleasing 
exterior and moral leprosy within. Will could as soon have fath- 
omed to its latest argument the most abstruse question in German 
metaphysics — the profoundest and most hopeless study known — as 
have formed the faintest guess at the hideous depths of the human 
enigma by his side. 

Will was brought home, and given over to his father’s care. It 
happened that Annis was unusually ill that day, and Alice was at- 
tending her in her own room. Anxious not to alarm his mother by 
the news of his accident, the loving son made lighter of his hurt than 
it deserved, and would not have her told until the morrow. 

Promising to call in a day or two for news of the patient, Oliver 
walked away. He had need of undisturbed reflection to mature a plan 
that had already begun to germinate in his fertile brain. To him it 
had all the force and attraction of a novel idea, yet in reality it was 
but the outcome of the tortuous schemes in which he had engaged. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


239 


Fate, destiny, — call it what you will, except Providence, which 
would be desecrated by the connection— the inevitable impulse of an 
egotistic and unscrupulous man to save himself from peril at any 
risk to another or to a hundred others, if he imagined their sacrifice 
essential — was hurrying him along. The awful chain of unforeseen 
events that drags the wrong-doer step by step to the uttermost 
depths of iniquity was around him ; he was in its links, within its 
influence. He could no more escape than the charmed bird fluttering 
at the bidding of the fascinating eye down into the jaws of the ser- 
pent. Years ago, he had taken the first step upon the road he was 
now pursuing, and was destined to traverse unfalteringly until he 
reached the terrible end. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


THE MEDIATOR. 

At the parlor window of an obscure little tavern, hard by the 
shore, stood a figure familiar to us all, eagerly watching the path 
leading from the direction of Lynn. 

“He’s late!” muttered Oliver, striding impatiently across the 
narrow room and nervously biting his nails. “ It ’s passed the hour 
named. If he don’t put in an appearance soon, the other will be 
upon us before I ’ve paved the way. Confound that ragged rascal 1 
Surely he delivered the note. 

“The plan is good and carefully thought out. If there’s an atom 
of spirit in Blythe, it cannot fail. Whatever the result, no blame 
can attach to me. My cue is to play the straightforward, devoted 
friend of both parties, distressed at the dificrence between the fami- 
lies, and anxious to bring about reconciliation. The play of passions 
will be like the clash of steel on flint ; the sparks must kindle flame 
I ’ll fan into a blaze. Stop ! here he comes. ” 

A heavy step was heard without, and the next moment Edward 
Blythe entered the little room. 


240 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


Passing conventionalities, we come at once to the occasion of 
this meeting. 

“ You got my note, of course,” Oliver began, “and were no doubt 
surprised at my request for an interview. To tell the truth, the 
idea was suggested by some talk I had with Will.” 

” My son ? ” repeated the farmer, looking up. 

“Your son, sir,” re-echoed Blande, unblushingly. “I did hope he 
might have broached the matter to you himself He would have, 
doubtless, but for his accident. Still, as I shall probably be leaving 
the neighborhood in a day or two, I think it better to explain now 
rather than lose a favorable opportunity of doing what I believe all 
parties have much at heart.” 

The farmer stared. Never very quick witted, he had not the 
faintest notion of the goaltowards which the schemer was cautiously 
feeling his way. 

“You hardly take me, sir, I think,” continued Oliver, with that 
tone of mingled interest and good feeling he so well knew how to as-. 
sume. “And in truth, now I have entered upon the subject, I scarcely 
know where to begin. Family disagreements are matters of such 
peculiar delicacy that a comparative stranger is at great disadvan- 
tage. May 1 beg you to believe that, however impertinent I may 
appear, I am actuated by the sincerest good wishes equally towards 
yourself, my friend Will, and my kind host Captain Lee. 

Though simple Edward flushed up to the eyes at this unexpected 
mention of his brother-in-law’s name, it was impossible— as yet at 
least — to repel good offices thus tendered. His few confused words 
of acknowledgement afforded his oily companion exciuse to continue. 

“I felt sure you ’d pardon my interference, or I shouldn’t have 
ventured. As I observed, a remark of Will’s yesterday put me on 
the track. Asking him — as a sincere friend — if he thought mediation 
on my part at all likely to heal the family breach, he cried — you know 
his honest frankness : ‘ There ’s nothing in life father more desires 

than to make up his quarrel with my uncle Lee ! ’ Before I say an- 
other word, allow me to ask — always supposing I’m not taking an 
unpardonable liberty — whether my friend was correct in his view? ” 

The farmer hesitated before reply. Though he had conquered his 
first surprise at finding this topic introduced, he was yet too much 
confused by Blande’s volubility to see his immediate drift. The nat- 
ural way in which Will’s name had been mentioned prevented the 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


241 


notion of his son’s not having discussed the subject with Oliver at 
all, for an instant entering his mind. 

“I’m main sorry Ralph and me ever came to differ,” he answered, 
slowly, after a lengthened pause. “He did me cruel wrong, as no 
doubt you know, sir. I was in fault at first mayhap, but ” 

“Not another word, my dear sir!” interrupted Oliver, eagerly. 
“No gentleman can be expected to do more than admit himself in 
the wrong. Now, though I ’ ve not the advantage of your experience, 
yet, young as I am, it is just possible I may have seen a little more 
of the wotld. Men live faster in towns, you know, than in the quiet 
innocence and simplicity of rural life. Being a warm friend to both 
parties, nothing could afford me greater delight than to help in 
effecting an agreement. 

“I’ve felt a delicac^q which of course you ’ll understand, in calling 
upon you at the Grange, while I was still a guest at The Towers. 
But as I’ve heard from a variety of quarters full accounts of the un- 
fortunate disagreement, I believe I may assume perfect acquaintance 
with its cause. Judging from this, it is my decided opinion the 
breach is based upon pure misunderstanding. 

“Now in the world, by the practice of which we must after all be 
guided, what is the course pursued when two highly estimable gen- 
tlemen have had a difference they would be heartily glad to see 
removed ? Expressions may have been used that both regret, but 
neither like to be first to retract; motives may have been imputed, 
scarcely believed in even at the time they were ascribed. Both feel 
themselves to some extent right; both would willingly be reconciled ; 
neither cares to offer the hand, for fear it should be refused. 

“ What, under such circumstances, would be the practice of the 
world ? Why, the adversaries avail themselves of the good offices 
of a mutual friend; and in that capacity I tender myself willingly. 
Ordinarily, I admit, it is not a grateful task. The mediator exposes 
himself to the chances of misinterpretation. His efforts may after 
all prove futile. While laboring to re-uuite his severed friends, he 
may be so unfortunate as to forfeit the good-will of both. Still, I 
will run that risk. Dangerous as is the adventure, I will attempt it 
for the sake of my friends. If I succeed, the happiness of success will 
prove its own reward, if I fail, I will trust to my friends’ indulgence 
to believe I have done my best. What say you, Mr, Blythe ? Will 
you accept my offer?” 


242 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


“ You ’re very kind, I ’m sure, sir,” returned the farmer, quite over- 
come by the ingenuous sincerity of his disinterested friend. ” There ’s 
nowt I wouldn’t do as might become a man to be friends again with 
Ralph. Partly for old times’ sake, but in the main for the joy 
’t would give to Annis. Poor wench! — ’t ain’t many pleasures she 
can have in life now. 

“Your answer does you honor, Mr. BK^the; great honor, if I may 
be permitted to say so. For Mrs. Blythe’s sake — whose unfortunate 
accident no one more sincerely deplores than I — then, if I understand 
you rightly, you would overlook Captain Lee’s hasty expressions 
at your last meeting, and would bury the trifling difference between 
you in oblivion. Most generous, indeed ! Nothing could be nobler. — 
Confusion I ” he muttered aside. “Deuce take his placability! I 
must try another tack.” 

“I don’t bear Ralph no malice. Captain Blande,” returned the 
farmer, slowly at first, but gathering words and a homely sort of 
eloquence — touching in its way — as he went on. “Was I to di^ to- 
night th’ Almighty wouldn’t find ill-will toward the friend o’ my 
boyhood writ upon my heart. He did me wrong; but I can excuse 
and forgive him. ’T was I were first in fault. I bowed before an 
idol; I hardened myself against the blessing o’ my life; I shut my 
eyes to the happiness ! did n’t know how to value as I ought, an’ 
God took it from me. His will be done! ” 

“Very excellent and pious sentiments, and highly to be com- 
mended,” returned Oliver with a sanctimonious leer. “Pity that 
one so rarely comes across this kind of thing; it ’s positively refresh- 
ing. As in most unlucky disagreements in this world, there was a 
question of money, I think, originaly involved. Money, somehow, 
does seem to have an awkward knack of setting relatives by the 
ears. Now, though I have not my friend Lee’s authority for the 
statement, I think I may venture to say he is willing to waive his 
claim to both the sums in question. The former amount he always 
considered a free gift to his sister, and, of course, to 3^ou. Thelatter, 
though perhaps imprudently risked, he can afford to bear the loss of. 
I mention this merely because the matter may perhaps have dwelt 
upon your mind. {Aside) That’ll touch him, surely! ” 

“Oh, I’ll repay all the money, sir, ’’responded Edward hastily, “if 
Ralph ’ll only give me time. My boy an’ me have made up our 
minds on that score. It ’s been a burden an’ a curse long enow. . I ’ve 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


243 


never known a quiet hour since I took it. ^ sacrificed the pride an’ 
pleasure o’ my life — the love an’ affection o’ the best wife man ever 
had — to keep it ; but it ’s lost its value to me now. We ’ll pay back 
every farthing o’ that cursed money if it left us without another in 
the world.” 

“Come, here’s our opening at last!” thought Oliver; then 
hastened to say “Very generous and honorable on your part, my 
dear sir; highly so. As regards the second amount — that embezzled 
by Wylie, I mean — of course 3"Our determination settles every diffi- 
culty. But there is a trifling obstacle to the repayment of the first, 
of which you hardly seem aware. I could n’t mention it to any one* 
but yourself, indeed, because it involves the admission of a slight ir- 
regularity — a youthful indiscretion, nothing more — upon my friend 
Lee’s part he might not like made known. That original sum of 
money — which I am charmed to hear has proved so productive, yet 
regret to learn has been a source of annoyance — was not, at the 
period it passed into Mrs. Blythe’s hands, my friend Lee’s property 
at all.” 

“Not Ralph’s money? Whose then? Why, he told Annis he ’d 
won it in the lottery ! ” 

“An amiable fiction on my friend’s part, excusable perhaps under 
the circumstances, yet wrong, because at variance with fact. The 
amount in question, my dear sir, I have ever^^ reason to believe, was 
the property of a wealthy Cuban merchant, one Don Ramon 
Vesillas.” 

“The property of a Gnibanmerchant ! ” repeated Blythe, in stunned 
amazement. “ D ’ye mean to say Ralph sto ” 

“Hus — s — vsh! my dear sir!” interrupted Oliver, holding up his 
hand deprecatingly. “We never apply those harsh expressions — in 
the world — to any little errors of judgment such as this may have 
been. We say, as I say now, that there must have been particular 
circumstances in the case. My friend Lee was, no donbt, this Don 
Ramon’s agent. Accounts were probably pending between them. 
Most likely the Captain — he was only mate at that time, by the way 
— thought himself entitled to use that money meaning to make resti- 
tution afterwards. Which, naturally, it is to be supposed he did. 
That is the obvious view to take. To adopt any other wohld be, to 
say the least, extremely awkward. People would naturally ask — 
unjustly, of course, but still the world is malevolent — how you could 


244 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


blame Captain Lee for taking a course subsequently chosen by 3^our- 
self.” 

“Captain Blande,” returned the farmer, with greater dignity of 
manner than Oliver had thought him capable of displa3dng, “I don’t 
attempt to excuse my fault, or to pretend I did n’t act foolishly and 
wrong. But there’s a wide difference between being the dupe of an 
artful knave and positive theft. Besides, I’m willing to make good 
my error. Ralph’s case is altogether different. If he took this man’s 
money, knowing it was not his to take, he acted like a thief. He was 
worse than a thief, for he made his innocent sister and me accomplices 
in his wicked deed. This thing must be explained at once. Good 
God! To think we ’ve passed all these years eating stolen bread!” 

“ Hit him at last, by all that ’s lucky ! Now for the final blow ! ” 
thought Oliver in triumph. “You quite misunderstand, dear sir,” 
he hastened to reply. “I should be deepl3^ shocked if you could for 
a moment imagine I imputed want of rectitude to our friend. In- 
discretion is surely the strongest epithet that could be applied ; and 
even that is relative in degree. Why, were he to be judged harshly 
in that little matter, what would malignity say to his subsequent 
career?” 

‘ ‘ His subsequent career ! Well, what was there to blame in that ? ’ ’ 

“Nothing indeed, as I think, but others might — some are so strait- 
laced. I mean of course that interesting period of our friend’s life 
when he sailed as Richard Blacks tock in the privateer.” 

“He sailed with Blackstock! The notorious pirate! My poor 
Phil’s murderer!” ejaculated Edward Blytite in a tone of mingled 
horror and hate. “ With that infamous scourge — robber, assassin, 
thief! The wretch whom I ’ve prayed never to meet in this world, for 
if I saw him murder would be done! For the love of Heaven, Cap- 
tain, tell me you ’re not in earne.st.” 

“A vendetta to gratify! Was ever chance so lucky?” was Oliver’s 
first idea; then, turning to the farmer, he replied in a tone of much 
concern, “Calm your excitement, dear sir, pray. There’s clearly 
some great mistake here. Our friend was no worse than others, 
never exceeded the usual license taken in time of war. But as I see 
him now coming down the hill, I’d better bring him in, and let him 
clear up this matter himself.” 

Before Edward could stop him he had left the room, and had 
accosted Ralph Lee, approaching slowly from without. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


245 


CHAPTER XXXVII L 

GUILTY CONSCIENCE. 

Judging from the startling eifect produced upon Edward Blythe 
by Oliver’s mention of Blackstock’s hated, though well-remembered 
name, the memories it called up from the depths of his soul must 
have been extraordinarily keen. An ancient bitterness, an old desire 
for vengeance, lulled by the lapse of years, started at a bound into 
all the former vigorous life. In the excitement of the moment, the 
farmer overlooked the fact that Oliver had said Lee sailed as Black- 
stock, and had understood him to state his wife’s brother was one 
of that redoubtable freebooter’s comrades. Yet even this conjunc- 
tion of their names sent him into a fever of unwonted passion, and 
terribly swelled the tide of his exasperation against Ralph Lee. 

Then might a calm and philosophical observer — interested in 
probing to the quick the wonderful mysteries of the human heart- 
have noticed the singular ease with which depth and intensity ol 
feeling break loose from the trammels of habit, of advancing years, 
and of acquired manner. This man, usually so stolidly quiet, bear- 
ing about with him the ever-present memory of the pitiful act, long 
since repented in bitterness and tears, that had slain his household 
joys and laid his noble-hearted wife upon a couch of pain for the rest 
of her days ; who had sustained that long and awful struggle with 
an overmastering passion that had vanquished him for a season, but 
was now in its turn overcome and trampled underfoot; who had 
achieved that grand and magnificent victory, so rare yet so glorious, 
of rising superior by sheer force of conviction to a degrading and 
deteriorating vice, but who had come out of the conflict worn, 
breathless, broken, bearing on his face and in his manner the scars 
with which Sin marks all who have once fallen beneath its swa^' — 
this man was now, through strong mental excitement, on a sudden 
restored to the purest and healthiest energy of his youthful days. 
He had a wrong to repair, an explanation to demand, a friend to 
avenge. 

His downcast look and drooping eye gave place to the proud and 


246 


ALBANY SfARK^S RLVENGL. 


lofty air of the man, strong in conscious integrity, who has that to 
demand which dare not be denied. The shuffling walk and slouching 
stoop were exchanged for a firm tread and an upright mien. Gone 
were the hesitation, the uncertainty, the doubt that had always 
seemed to form the atmosphere in which he lived since the day of 
Annis’s catastrophe, and into their places stepped decision, firmness, 
strength. The very tone of his voice changed in the short interval 
between Oliver’s leaving the room and his return with Lee. 

“It’s well you come,” he said, walking straight up to the sailor 
the instant he appeared. “If I’d not seen you here, I should have 
gone to your house. I ’d follow you round the world till I spoke with 
you.” 

Quick observer as Oliver was, the determined expression apparent 
upon Edward’s face and audible in the clear ring of his voice, struck 
him in an instant. 

“ The match has fired the train,” he muttered ; “ better for me to 
retreat before the magazine explodes.” 

He edged gradually to the door, and presently slipped out. His 
exit was for a time unperceived. 

Lee was almost equally surprised with Oliver at Edward’s sud- 
den fire, but, as yet ignorant of the cause, in him the feeling took the 
shape of cool and insolent contempt. 

“ You ’ve been a long time making up your mind, my good fellow,” 
he replied, throwing a leg carelessly across the corner of the table. 
“ I ’m not difficult to find, I fancy, nor need you take so long a voy- 
age. If Blande had said ’t was von that wished to see me, I shouldn’t 
have thought it worth while to come in. However, now I am 
here, what is it you want ? ” 

“I want to speak to 3^ou as man to man,” returned Edward, 
firmly. ‘ ‘ I want to know from your own lips whether certain things 
I’ve heard are true. I want above all, to have the real, whole, 
unequivocating truth about those things ; and what is more, that 
truth I am determined to have. Do you hear, Ralph ? I swear that 
I will have the whole and solemn truth as to what I shall ask, before 
you or I leave this room.” 

He strode across the little parlor, closed the door, and placed 
his back against its panels. 

“Neither you nor I,” he repeated sternly, “ quit this room before 
the questions I shall ask are answered with the truth.” 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


247 


“ Whe-e-ew ! ’’ whistled Ralph contemptously. ** Here ’s a.storm in 
the galley coppers! And suppose I don’t choose to answer your 
questions with truth, or even at all. What then ? Why, curse your 
e^^es and limbs, you skulking ” 

“Stop ! ” interrupted Edward, raising his hand. “No abuse. I ’ll 
not endure it. You and I are far too old to squabble like a pair of 
silly boys. What we ’ve to say is far too serious to be treated like a 
common pothouse wrangle. Honor and reputation, everything that 
men hold most precious and most dear, perhaps even life itself, 
depend upon the words we may exchange. Again I say, therefore, I 
will have truth at any cost.” 

“Turn out your questions then at once,” roared Ralph, passion- 
ately,” and don ’t stand preaching there like some infernal Methodist 
nigger. Ask away and be hanged to you, though whether I’ll 
answer or not ’s for me to decide. Go ahead I ” 

“First, I require to know whence you got that money — that four 
thousand pounds — you left with Annis when you last quitted Lynn. 
Was it your’s to give ? If so, where did you, then a raw young sailor 
lad, obtain so large a sum ?” 

“Well, did n’t Annis tell you? I won the tin, man — won it in the 
lottery and so of course ’t was mine.” 

“ Ralph, is that true ? Ask your own conscience. Had no one else 
a claim upon that money superior to yours ? ” 

“What the devil business have you to ask?” retorted the sailon 
angrily. “Who gave you a right to rake up bygones, and put saucy 
questions ? You ’av got your answer ; be content.” 

“I cannot,” was the firm reply. “Conscience, I own the shame, 
long lulled asleep within me, has awoke at last and will be heard.” 

“Pity it did n’t snooze a watch longer!” growled Ralph. ” Be^ 
sides, the thing’s no business of yours. ’T was Annis had the rhino; 
not you.” 

“I am responsible for my wife,” returned Edward, gravely. 
“From whatever source it came, the dowry she brought me 
proved the stepping-stone to wealth. Under her care, her wise fru- 
gality, her never-tiring watchfulness and love, our fortunes pros- 
pered, grew, increased, and every twelvemonth added to the store. 
We worked hard, lived thriftily, had our troubles and our crosses, 
but on the whole were contented and happy — how happy, God alone, 
and she, can ever know ! till we received the news that you were 


248 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


coming home. Then all was changed. Bad, evil thoughts rose up 
in my mind, and I ’ve never known a quiet hour since. 

“ That wretched money, the cause of our prosperity at first, became 
the cause of my sin and that poor wench’s misery. A curse was on 
it, and I want to take that curse away, to devote the rest of my life 
to atoning for the evil I’ve done, and making her remaining days as 
happy as I can. The first thing is to repay that money to its right- 
ful owner. Ralph, I ask you again, who is that owner.” 

“You want to pay it back,” returned Ralph, with a short, harsh 
laugh. “Why the deuce could n’t you say so at once without all 
that rigmarole ? Well, I ’m agreeable. Perhaps, while you ’re about 
it, you ’ll dub up the rest of my money you and your rascally ac- 
complice shared between you. Come, pay away.” 

And he held out his hand. 

“I said, to its rightful owner, Ralph,” replied Edward, gravely. 
“Are you he? ” 

Ralph Lee’s next act, at this repeated question, was rather singu- 
lar. Diving into his breast-pocket, he hastily drew forth a small 
case of limp brown leather, turned to a slit in the lining, and eagerly 
examined several papers it contained. Then apparently satisfied, he 
restored the book to its receptacle with an air of relief. 

“Now look you here, Ned Blythe,” he resumed, rising from the table, 
and walking up to his interrogator. “ Poor-spirited, mean skulk as 
you are, you’re my sister’s husband, upon whom I’m bound to think 
she sets some sort of value, and I don’t want to quarrel. I forgave 
one piece of rascality, for Annis’s sake. Don’t provoke me further. 
What your object is in boring away at this one point I neither know 
nor care, but as I told you before, I shan’t answer your cursed im- 
pertinent questions. I can guess your informant in this matter, and 
it only adds a fresh item to the long score I ’m totting up against 
him for his infernal interference in my private affairs. 

“If, as you say, your blessed tender conscience won’t leave you at 
peace until you’ve repaid the money I never asked for or expected, 
pay it, and take yourself and conscience off to blazes as soon as you 
please. If ’t is only a trick — as I suspect — and you don’t really mean 
to part with the blunt but want to get the credit of cheap honesty, 
spare your trouble, belay your jawing-tackle, and steer clear of a 
business you can’t understand. Now get away from the door, for I 
want to go.” 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


249 


He advanced upon his companion as he spoke, but Edward did 
not stir. He looked into the sailor’s face with a steady and unflinch- 
ing gaze, as if he would read his heart. Despite his bravado, Ralph’s 
bold eye fell. 

“It is as I have heard, then,’’ said the farmer, after a pause. “ If 
there were nothing to conceal, why this evasion ? Well, I must try 
to find out the real owner and make restitution to him.’’ 

“Make restitution to Davy Jones, if you like, and take out the 
change in brimstone,” retorted Ralph, 'with a sneer. “But now 
stand clear. Get out o’ the gangway, don’t you hear ? ” 

“I have still more to ask,’’ was the quiet reply. “Questions to 
which I must have plainer answers than you have given, but which 
are of far greater importance to you than thOvSe I have \'et put. 
What I have hitherto spoken of only concerned your honor, Ralph ; 
this touches your life.” 

The sailor gave a visible start. Great as had been* his surprise to 
be charged from this quarter with an early evil deed he vainly 
imagined long since forgotten, his presence of mind and command of 
countenance had enabled him to mask his alarm under an air of 
vaunting contempt for his interlocutor, but he was totally unpre- 
pared to find the man he had so long despised as a paltry yokel also 
acquainted with the iniquities of his later career. A bitter oath 
escaped him, coupled with the name of Oliver Blande. 

“Ay,” replied Edward, “ I don’t deny ’t was he that told me. As 
he was right on one point, I fear he may be correct upon the other. 
And if he is, Ralph, brother-in-law as you are, may the Lord above 
have mercy on you, for I ’ll have none ! ” 

“Ned Bl3The,” gasped the sailor, turning white with excess of 
passion, “beware! You ’ve got to the length of your tether. If you 
value your life say no more.” 

“Duty before safety; duty to society and poor dead Phil King,” 
returned Edward, firmly. “My life ’s in the hands o’ the Almighty'. 
If I do right, my soul will be saved even though my body perish. 
Ralph, I’m not afraid. Listen to me. 


250 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE NICK OP TIME. 

The purport of the short story told by Edward Blythe to his 
brother-in-law — racked by an agitation and a tremor he vainly strove 
to hide — was to the following effect. 

It will be remembered that Edward was a foundling. Parents, 
so far as he was aware, he never had. For all he knew, his tiny 
form might have been dug out of the proverbial parsley-bed or 
plucked from the fabulous baby-tree in place of making its entrance 
into the world in the method common to the highest and the low- 
liest among the sons and daughters of men. His mothermight have 
been a princess in distress who had run away from court with his 
father, a handsome lord -in -waiting, or some common village drab 
who had coupled with the first ne’er-do-well that had caught her not 
over particular fancy. One man as likely as the other, and both 
l)robably equall}^ distant from the truth. In any case, the child was 
no doubt a blot and a burden, an incubus to be got rid of, a trouble 
and a shame. 

For he was discovered one winter’s morning packed in a basket 
at the workhouse door, and the Union henceforth became his home. 

With parish for his father and workhouse for his mother, the 
pauper infant grew from child to boy, and from boy to man. At 
the age of sixteen, being an intelligent and steady youth, he was 
taken into the steward’s office of the Squire of Thorne. Three years 
later, his principal meeting with an accident not uncommon in those 
parts, and in those hard-drinking times— being smothered, drunk, in 
a ditch on his way home from a fair — Blythe found favor in the 
sight of the Squire’s solicitor, and was inducted into the vacant 
post. 

During his workhouse life the only child among all Edward’s 
pauper playmates — if such a term may with any fitness be applied 
to the youth of the abjectly poor — for whom he felt more than a 
transient liking was one Phil King, a boy in much the same position 
as to parentage as himself. These two made common cause against 


ALBANY STARK'S RLVENGL, 


251 


the rest. The^" shared the same bed and sat together at meals, they 
fought each other’s battles and bore each other’s stripes ; they were 
comrades in the scanty boyish exploits the crushed spirit of the 
juvenile “ workus ” allows him to pluck up courage to attempt; 
they were more than friends or intimates — they were brothers, kin- 
dred in mind, in thoughts, in tastes and likings; may be — who shall 
decide where all is mystery? — even in blood. 

Their first separation was when Bdward left the Union, and was 
placed in the Steward’s office. Though but mere common paupers, 
reared upon charity and suckled upon rates, it is not impossible that 
these poor lads felt the parting as keenly as if they had been 
brought up with every care and every luxury, had gone to Harrow, 
Westminster, or Eton, and were destined to take high positions at 
the bar, in the Senate or the Church. Were it not an utterly here- 
tical and subversive notion, immensely Radical and low, one might 
perhaps conjecture that, having no other pleasures in life than theit 
comradeship and affection, these vulgar little wretches even felt the 
deprivation more bitterly than precious entities consisting of the salt 
and savor of the earth. 

Cast asunder though they were, the two kept up their boyish love. 
Edw'ard continued to hold the post of steward or bailiff on the 
Squire of Thorne’s e.state, subject at all times to the high and mighty 
pleasure of Titus Owen, Esq., up in town, until the day we first 
made his acquaintance. His subsequent career has been traced. 
Phil King — a livelier and more daring spirit than his friend — found 
workhouse rules unbearable when left to encounter their harshneses 
alone. Put apprentice to a shoemaker at Lynn, he soon emanci- 
pated himself from awl and cobblers’ wax by running off to sea. 

Years paSvSed before Edward Blythe — married by that time and 
working hard in the happy days of his early union with Annis — 
heard any tiding of his former friend. Then, one bleak autumn 
night, there came staggering along through the wind that thundered 
likevolle3^s of cannon over the face of the moor, through the blinding 
sleet that drenched the unprotected wayfarer in a minute to the skin, 
a man in a rough pea-jacket to the Grange farm door, and asked to 
see the master. Admitted, you may guess the hearty welcome he 
received, for the new arrival was Phil King. 

The sailor staid with his old friend that night, and many future 
nights. He never left the hospitable haven, into which his storm- 


252 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


tossed bark had ultimately run, until the day of his death. For it 
proved that, after his long absence, he had only come home to die. 
A wound in the head, got, said Phil, in action with a merchantman 
that fought the Yankee privateer in which he sailed, though exter- 
nally healed, was slowl}^ wearing him to the grave. 

Months passed, during which the sailor gradually declined. 
There were times in which the injury to the brain he had received 
entirely bereft him of his senses, and during these paroxA^sms the 
absent intellect revisited the scenes in which its master had appar- 
ently plaved a conspicuous part. His shouts, his cries, his words, 
his gestures showed that he fancied himself again in the thick of 
battle. He seemed to smell the smoke, to hear the rush and 
turmoil of the fight, to feel the fierce excitement of cut, thrust, 
and parry, to be carried away by the terrible passion that 
seizes on man when pitted against his fellow. But in all these 
attacks there always came the same invariable close. After the 
period of excitement followed a temporary lull. Then, on a sudden, 
the sick man sprang up in his bed with a wild and fearful shriek — a 
scream of intense, heart-rending agony — that pierced like a knife-stab 
through the hearer’s brain. He shouted: “God! — Cap’n! Have 
mercy I ’ Tis our duty to help the weak ! ” Then dropped together 
in a senseless heap, and lay motionless for hours. 

The suffering this poor fellow underwent shrunk his limbs from 
the robust proportions of a stalwart man to the puny members of a 
feeble child. He dwindled gradually yet surely, and as he grew 
weaker the paroxysms of his terrible disease increased in power and 
frequency, until they literally wore him out. The da^^ before his 
death had been passed in such unremitting agony that his faithful 
friends, Annis and Edward, had prayed almost hourly for his 
release. 

Their supplications may have been heard. Early in the morning, 
when the summer dawn was lighting up the reddening sky, when 
birds were chirping merrily among the branches of the or- 
chard trees without, Phil King awoke from a short and feverish 
slumber, and it was evident his end was near. Edward was then 
alone by the bedside, having sent Annis away to get a little rest. 

The farmer rose from his knees, bent tenderly over the dying 
man, took his hand, and gazed awe-stricken into his face. Grey, 
solemn shadows were stealing over the wrung, haggard features, 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


253 


blanched to an ashen shade at the approach of the Great Consoler, 
yet wearing a happier, more peaceful tinge than they had shown 
for months. 

“How is ’t wi’ ye now, Phil?” asked Edward, sympathisingly. 

“Well, Ned ! ” was the reply, given in a voice so strong the farmer 
fairly started at its ring. “ Dear friend, I’m going home.” 

The ready tear rushed into Edward’s eye, and he turned aside. 

“Yes, Ned, old boy, my time’s come at last,” continued Phil King, 
“an’ thank the Lord as ’t is, Don’t cry, dear Ned. It must come 
to alLon us some day, either young or old. Thanks to your good 
wife and you, I’m fitter to meet it now than I was once. Before I 
go, there’s sunimut lies heavy on my heart as I must tell. You must 
do me a sarvice, Ned, when I ’m gone.” 

“ A hundred, Phil, if you like. What is it ? ” 

“ ’Tis about the way I got my wound. IVe made no secret to 
so old a friend as you about the work we did in the war-time. We 
salved it over with the talk as we was arter all only privateers’ 
men but we was worse, Ned. We was pirates! An’ the worst of 
all on us, the biggest devil, the cruelest, greediest, most bloodthirsty 
monster o’ the lot, was our Cap’n, Blackstock — him as I’ve often 
told you on. Ned, ’twas he giv’ me my wound.” 

‘ ‘ Y our own Captain ! ” 

“Him an’ no one else!” asseverated the sailor. “’T was arter 
action an’ in cold blood, Ned. I interfered to protect some ladies, 
passengers in a prize, whom he’d given up to the men. I did n’t 
know then, though I learned afterwards, as he was savage with one 
on ’em ’cause she would n’t do his will. We come to words. He 
struck me down wi’ a handspike, an’ I’ve never been my own man 
since. Ned, dyin’ men see clear. Somethin’ tells me you’ll come 
across that man yet afore you die. Somethin’ tells me you ’ll one day 
hold him in your power. If ever you do, think o’ poor Phil King’s 
request, an’ — an’ — spare him for my sake!" 

“Why should I?” cried Edward Blythe, excitedly. “D’ye think I 
can ever forget the torment he ’s made you suffer? Spare him ! No, 
Phil. ’T ain’t likely him an’ me shall ever meet, but if we do ” — he 
raised his hand solemnly — “the Lord have mercy on his wicked soul, 
for you shall be revenged ! ” 

“Ned, Ned,” gasped the sailor, groping blindly for his friend’s 
hand, for the darkness of dissolution already dimmed his eye. “Don’t 


254 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


swear an oath yon can’t — you durst n’t — keep, You know this man. 

Blackstock ’s — not — his name ; — it ’s ah ! My head ! ” 

A shudder ran through all his limbs. He stretched himself out 
with a quick convulsive gasp, and was dumb forever. 

“Well, what’s this spoony yarn about your workhouse pal to do 
with me? ” demanded Ralph, turning fiercely upon Edward when 
he had finished his tale. “D’3"e think I’m answerable -for every 
meddling fool that gets his skull cracked ? From all I can make 
out, this precious friend of yours richly deserved his fate. What 
right had the vagabond to interfere with his skipper’s amuseqaents. 
Only wanted the wench for himself, I ’ll swear.” 

He flung off with a scornful laugh. The time necessarily con- 
sumed by Edward in arraying the facts of his case had given him 
leisure to recover his self command, and he was now as coolly daring 
and sarcastic as at first. 

“Shame, tenfold shame upon you, Ralph Lee!” exclaimed the 
farmer, indignant at the insult to his lost friend. “Led away though 
he might be by love of adventure, poor Phil was never the man to 
injure the defenceless. He truly repented his evil courses before he 
died, and I only hope you and I may make as good an end.” 

“A-a-men!” chanted Ralph, in a tone of mock solemnity. “But 
what ’s this blessed saint’s peaceful end to do with me ? That ’s 
what I can’t make out.” 

“ Thus much. I’ve heard — deny it if you dare — you sailed with this 
monster Blackstock. I know you well enough now, to be certain 
that in whatever deviltries that infamous brute perpetrated you had 
your full share. One of these proved, nay, even the fact demon- 
strated that you were among the crew, and your life ’s not worth a 
straw. That 3^ou ’ll admit.” 

“ D’ye take me for a fool ? ” retorted Ralph, contemptuously. “ Go 
on.” 

“Years ago, while sitting by poor Phil’s side, watching his agonies 
with a bleeding heart, I swore if ever I got a clew to the villains 
who caused his sufferings, I’d hunt them down if it cost me life and 
fortune. And, Ralph, whatever the sacrfice, be sure I’ll keep my 
word ! ” 

“Get on, get on,” growled the sailor, impatiently. “You’ve mpre 
to say.” 

“Knowing, as I do now, that you formed one of the gang, I doubt 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


255 


ifl ought to give you even this chance of escape. Yet, right or 
wrong, I can’t forget the tie between us. Therefore I make this offer. 
Tell me where this murderous scroundrel, this Blackstock, is to be 
found, and no man shall ever hear of your guilt from me.” 

‘‘You’re deuced kind and condescending, upon my word,” sneered 
Ralph. “If I’ll tell where a man is I have n’t heard of this twenty 
years, you ’ll not blow the gaff. Why, you must take me for a child 
or an idiot, to talk in that way.” 

He turned awa3" with a pretence of indignation, and began to 
pace the floor. It would have been apparent however, to one who 
knew him better than Edward Blythe, that he was casting about in 
his mind for some means of escaping his present dilemma. Nothing 
but the preoccupation thus occasioned could otherwise have led him 
to overlook the fat:t that while he stood nervously drumming upon 
the window, the half-closed door behind his brother-in-law was 
gently pushed open and a low voice whispered half-a-dozen sentences 
in Edward’s ear. Next moment the farmer resumed : 

“You say you have n’t heard of Blackstock for twenty years. 
Ralph’ that can hardly be. I have positive information he has been 
seen latel^^ in this neighborhood, I’m told even in your own house.” 
A savage execration flew from the sailor’s lips. 

“ Confusion! ” he exclaimed, in unfeigned fury and dismay. “If 
your rascally spy has let you into the secret so far, why did n’t he 
go a step further and tell you all ? D’ ye think I fear you, man ? Do 
your worst! Go and take Blackstock, if you know where he’s 
to be found. But say your prayers and make your will first, 
for you won’t come back alive.” 

“Ralph, I must have an answer,” returned Edward, firmly. “ ’Tis 
no use trying to evade me, for my mind ’s made up. If this monster 
is to be found upon earth. I’ll go to the world’s end to secure him. 
For the last time I ask you — where is Blackstock ? ” 

The sailor’s passion at this unexpected pertinacity reached its 
highest pitch. Reckless of the consequences, carried away by the 
daring spirit that had hurried him to so many evil deeds when, 
rightly directed, it might have led him to distinction and renown, he 
fell back a pace or two, then rushing up to his interrogator, 
shouted : 

“You will have it then? You won’t be satisfied until you’ve 
roused the lion, and been swept away by his wrath ? You want to 


256 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


find Dick Blackstock. Have your wish. Ned Blythe, — Dick Black-* 
stock is here!" 

Firmly though Edward Blythe had wrought himself up to the 
purpose he had conceived, this terrible announcement, coupled with 
the no less tern1)le aspect of the man by which it was delivered, 
might well have made him shrink and quail. So, in truth, he may 
almost be said at first to have done. Nor was the feeling unnatural. 
Profound as was his detestation of the horrors he knew from his 
dead friend the man before him had committed, deepl^^ rooted in his 
mind as was the determination to avenge not poor Phil’s sufferings 
only, but those of hundreds more who had been slain, plundered, or 
ruined by the pirate crew, it will not be thought surprising that 
when he found the perpetrator of all this hideous wickedness in the 
companion of his youth, his own near relative, th^ brother to whom 
he knew his wife was tenderly attached, he flinched for a brief space 
from the duty upon which he had resolved. 

“You — you — Ralph Lee, Annis’s brother, that vile, atrocious mis- 
creant!’’ he stammered, starting back appalled. “My God, what 
fearful misery ! ” 

He clasped his hands and groaned. Ralph marked his emotion 
with an eye of mocking joy, thinking he saw in it an evidence of 
fear. 

“Well, virtuous Ned,” he sneered, thrusting his face close to the 
farmer’s countenance. “ Where ’s all the pluck and courage gone? 
A minute ago you were swearing with a solemn face you ’d go to the 
world’s end to lay hold on honest Dick. Like an obliging brother- 
in-law, I’ve saved you the trouble. Here’s your opportunity; why 
don’t you take it ? ” 

Edward looked at him silently with a horror he did not attempt 
to disguise. Ralph now felt sure of his ground. 

“Shall I tell you why?” he continued, tauntingly. “Shall I tell 
you why, like a good many other folks who talk big enough when 
they think they won’t have to make good their words, you ’ve 
thought better of it ? Because you daren’t execute your threat. 
Boasting driveller and fool, d’ye think I’ve faced Death in a hundred 
shapes and carried my life in my hand these many years, to be 

brought to bay at last by a d d runaway farming jolterhead? 

’T will want a better man than you to take Dick Blackstock.” 

Still Edward kept silence, still he looked the scoffer steadily in 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


257 


the face, but a dark red flush spreading slowly up either pale cheek 
showed the effort ‘t cost him to keep his rising passion down. 

“As for yon mutinous dog I chastised,” snarled Ralph, slowly, 
compressing his lips, “not only I don’t regret what 3^ou ’re pleased 
to call his awful sufferings, but if ’t were to do again, I ’d do it and 
worse ; I ’d keel-haul the scoundrel first and maroon him after. Now 
stand away.” 

“Never! ” shouted the farmer. “The natural wish I felt for a mo- 
ment to spare so great a villain for Annis’s sake is gone. No mercy 
to the wretch who cannot feel remorse. Pirate, robber, and mur- 
derer! Ralph Lee or Richard Blackstock, whatever the name you go 
by, I arrest you in the King’s namef” 

He threw himself upon the sailor as he spoke, and, grasping 
him by the collar, bore him to the ground. The suddenness of the 
attack at first took his antagonist by surprise, but quickly gather- 
ing himself together, he cast the farmer from him, and in an instant 
was upon his feet. The two men glared at each other for a second 
like a couple of wild beasts, then locked in a fast and deadly grapple. 

Up, down, now with their limbs interlaced upon the floor, now 
staggering about the little room, now crashing over a chair which 
crumbled to fragments beneath their weight, now falling with a 
heavy thud upon the table, the combatants struggled on with var- 
ied fortune for several minutes till at last the sailor’s superior 
strength began to tell. Finding his antagonist pant and totter, 
feeling the tightness of his hold relax, Ralph made a final effort, 
raised with the utmost exertion at his command the farmer’s bod}' 
clear off his feet, then cast him heavily upon the ground and knelt 
upon his chest. 

. “At last, at last I’ve got you!” he shouted. “’T is my turn to 
put condiUons now. D’ \'e see this, meddler ? ” 

As he spoke, he drew a keen-edged Spanish knife from its sheath 
in his breast, and pressed its broad, sharp blade against the farmer’s 
throat. 

“Let me up! ” cried Edward, vainly striving to rise. 

“Not before you swear never to breathe a syllable of what has 
passed. Keep still, or you are a lost man. Swear.” 

Again he pressed the steel against the prostrate man’s neck. Its 
touch sent an icy shiver through the farmer’s veins, 


258 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


“Swear, fool, I say repeated Ralph, savagely. “I’m not to be 
trifled with. Swear or I strike.’’ 

“Never!” cried Edward, boldly. “Add my death to your many 
crimes, if you will, but I ’ll never release you while I ’ve life. 
Surrender! ” 

The sudden effort to rise with which he seconded his words 
almost threw Ralph off his balance. Recovering himself actively, he 
drew back his hand with the knife, and was about to drive it deep 
into the farmer’s breast, when his wrist was suddenly seized from 
behind. A strong arm drew the sailor off the prostrate man, and a 
friendly voice whispered in his ear : 

“ Orkard playthings, them bodkins, Cap’n. Better let me take care 
o’ this ’un, afore mischief’s done.” 

The speaker was the Paston Oracle, old Josh Rich. 


CHAPTER XL. 


UPON THE CLIFF. 

When old Josh came so opportunely to the rescuse of Edward 
Blythe, the farmer lost not a moment in rising to his feet. Savage 
at the interruption for which he ought to have been deeply thankful, 
furious as the baffled tiger balked of its spring, Ralph Lee turned 
upon the mediator with a burst of sudden passion before which a 
less sturdy spirit than that of the stout-hearted old soldier might 
well have quailed. 

“Give me the knife, you cursed, meddling old scoundrel!” he 
shouted, snatching at the weapon. “ What right have you to inter- 
fere in gentlemen’s quarrels? — a common black-guard like you? Give 
it up this instant, I say.” 

Red-eyed and pale with fury, still breathless and panting from 
the struggle, he stamped violently upon the floor; his fingers closed 
and unclosed convulsively upon the palm ; it was with difliculty he 
restrained himself from rushing upon the brave old man, who stood 


ALBANY STARK* S REVENGE. 


259 


— a guardian angel — between the desperado and his victim, and 
dashing him to the ground under his feet. 

“Easy, Captain,” returned Old Josh, coolly, though it was evident 
he felt the insult Ralph had hurled at him in his madness as keenly 
as if it had been a blow. “The whittle’s in safer hands just now 
than yourn. An’ as for the names you’ve guv me, you’ll be sorrj^ 
for having spoke so hasty when you ’re cool, may-be. — How is ’t wi’ 
yer honor? ” added Josh turning to Blythe. “No damage done this 
journey, I ’opes.” 

Leaning exhausted against the window-frame, supporting his 
throbbing brow upon his arm, it was almost as much as the farmer 
could compass to stammer out an assuranee that he was still unhurt. 

“That’s well,” returned Old Josh, eheeringly. “Now look ye here, 
gen’lemen both. ’Tain’t fora plain man like me to poke my nose 
into your private affairs, an’ so larCap’n Lee ’s right, thof he might 
ha’ said it a little more eivil. Time was when I should ha’ took them 
words very different. I’m old enough now to pass ’em quiet by, 
knowing you must n’t measure what ’s spoke in anger with a com- 
mon rule.” 

The old man’s calm and dignified air went further to appease 
Ralph’s fury than could have been effected by a torrent of reproach. 
It brought him nearer to feeling ashamed of his violence than he had 
felt for years. Subdued and to a certain extent abashed, he thrust 
two fingers into his waistcoat pocket and pulled out a sovereign, 
which he urged upon the veteran. 

“Sorry 1 hurt your feelings, my man,” he said with the bluff 
joviality that usually marked his manner. “There’s a plaister to 
patch ’em up again. Now give me my property, and sheer off for the 
present. I’ve a little matter of business to settle with Mr. Blythe, 
and just now you ’re rather in the way.” 

If Joshes features wore an air of dignity before, the expression 
they assnmed now that Ralph tried to set him aside in his off-hand, 
jaunty fashion, was one of positive command. 

“Keep your gold. Captain Lee,” ejaculated th^old man, proudly, 
waving back the hand of the tempter. “ D’ ye think I want reward 
for savin’ a fellow-creetur’slife an’ doin’ a Christian’s duty? You ’re 
a younger man than me,, an’ a stronger one, I dare say, but I don’t 
stir from this here spot till Muster Blythe’s clear out o’ the house 
safely. Your little matter o’ business, as you call it. ain’t nothin’ to^ 


260 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE, 


do with me, but I ’ll take care no Murder’s done before my eyes, at 
any rate.” 

‘‘Why, you confounded old booby ” began Ralph, starting for- 

ward furiously, when Old Josh faced him undauntedly with the up- 
lifted knife. 

“Stand back, if you love your life! Lay a hand on me or the 
farmer, and I ’ll drive it to the hilt in your heart! Ah, swear away,” 
continued the veteran, as baffled Ralph burst into a flood of the 
vilest imprecations, “words don’t break no bones, an’ yon blue- 
jackets are famous hands at Billingsgate. Swear away, an’ get all 
that dirty stuff off your tongue, for I ’am damned if you do mischief 
any other way, an’ that’s plain English, thof I be only a common 
blackguard.” 

Seeing that neither abuse, cajolery, nor fear had any chance of 
driving stout-hearted Josh from the field, Ralph started for the door, 
pausing before he went out to address a final warning to his brother- 
in-law. 

“Mark well, Edward,” he growled, menacingly, “through this 
fool’s interference you have escaped me now, but if you dare to 
breathe one syllable of what has passed this day, that hour ’s your 
last. Be wise in time. Learn from the lesson you have just received 
that silence is your only safety, and be dumb.” 

Looking from the window a minute later, they saw him take the 
road leading to The Towers, and presently disappear over the crest 
of the hill. Then Edward Blythe turned towards his preserver, and 
grasped him heartily by the hand. 

“I owe you my life. Rich,” he said warmly, “and though God 
knows I don’t value it much for my own sake, ’tis precious to my 
wife and my boy. In their names then I thank you. Remember, if 
ever you want a friend, you ’ll find one ready to serve you to the 
utmost of his power at the Grange.” 

“Surely, your honor, surely,” returned the veteran. “ ’Deed now, 
an’ I’d be worse than a butcher to stand by and see mischief done 
when I could help it. As far as this present business goes too, though 
as I said afore I ain’t inquisitive, yet perhaps if I knew how all come 
about, I might be able to give useful advice. I ’ve seen a goodish bit 
o’ the world, as yer honor is aweer,” added the Oracle with an 
abortive attempt at modesty, “and ’taint a trifle as ’uld flabber- 
"aster me; but when I come in here, permiscus like, and see one gent 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


261 


a kneelin’ on another gent’s chest, that other gent all but black in the 
face through strugglin’ to get up an’ can’t, the first gent wery 
furious an’ offering with this ere bit o’ cutlery — an’ a ’andsome speci- 
men it is too as ever slit a weasand — at the undermost gent’s 
throat, why then ’taint a wery unnatural conclusion to come tathat 
summut between them two gents ain’t quite as it should be. And if 
any assistance or advice o’ mine ’ll set things right, why 1 thall be 
wery happy to give it — that’s all.” 

‘‘Thank you. Rich, thank you,” returned Edward, again heartily 
shaking the sergeant-major’s hand. ‘‘ I know you would, and ifithis 
were a mere easily settled squabble, there’s nobody whose good 
offices I ’d sooner ask than your’s. As it is,” and he repressed a sigh, 
“I’m afraid all the world will soon know more about this business 
—too much indeed. Oh, Annis, Annis! poor suffering lass, what 
bitter grief is still in store for thee! Will, too, my noble, sensitive 
boy, the shame of having such an uncle will fall hard on him. Must 
it then be done ? Is there no alternative, no choice ? ” 

Regardless of the soldier’s presence he paced anxiously up and 
down the floor, balancing again and again in his mind the argu- 
ments for and against the denunciation of Ralph, and unable for a 
time to see which scale should kick the beam. Josh, meanwhile 
stood silentl 3 ’’ apart, his keen brown eyes shooting wary, watchful 
glances from underneath his bushy brows, his ears strained to their 
nicest pitch, not to lose the slightest explanatory word. The little 
he had caught sufficed to show him some mystery of unusual gravity 
lay here concealed, and notwithstanding his previous disclaimer of 
inquisitiveness, the mere suspicion of a secret was a bait he always 
found it impossible to resist. Prudence however taught him that in 
the present instance more was to be gained by silence than by speech. 

“Yes, yes; it must, it shall be done! ” exclaimed Edward at last. 
“ Duty and honor point out the path ; I ’ll follow it whatever be the 
sacrifice. Poor Phil must be revenged ; this terrible monster 
punished. Tell me. Rich, when you came in, did you see Captain 
Blande anywhere near ? ” 

“As I come in, Mr. Blythe, no,” returned Josh, promptly. “No 
one were hereabouts. But since we two ’ve been talking, I ’ve seen 
the captain pass the window, ah, not five minutes ago.” 

“ Which way did he go ? I must see him, speak with him instantly. 
Along the shore? Thanks, thanks. No, don’t come with me; I 


262 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


must speak to him alone. Keep at home this evening, Rich; perhaps 
I may want your help. If so, I 41 call at your cottage on my way 
from Lynn.’* 

The farmer hastily left the room, and Josh, stepping to the 
window, saw him follow the winding road that led along the shore. 

Left alone in his glory, but with his curiosity worse than unsatis- 
fied, because the little he had heard, while it told him nothing essen- 
tial, excited up to fever pitch the torments of his wish “to know, 
you know,” all about the tremendous mystery that had suddenly 
started up before his eyes, Josh restored a chair reposing on the floor 
legs upwards to its natural position, seated himself, and survyed 
the scene. Crammed to the top of his cranium with wonderment, the 
survey necessarily led to a monologue. As born of an Oracle, some 
may like to have this production. Ecce. 

“Well, I ’m stammed ! Of all the rum goes I ever come across, this 
is about the rummiest. Cap’n Lee and Farmer Blythe, brothers-in- 
law, literally at what the story books call daggers drawn ; Cap’n 
furious to that degree as to ha’ lost his head an’ all but done murder; 
farmer shook an’ serious fur more than narrow escape of his life 
would hurt a healthy man. ‘Breathe but one syllable of what has 
passed, and that hour’s yer last! ’ says Cap’n with a scowl, and off 
he goes. ‘All the world will soon know more about this business, 
I ’m afraid — too much indeed,’ says farmer, with a shake of the head, 
and off he goes. What does that mean ? Caps me to tell. Then 
there’s fashinoable Cap’n Blande some how mixed up in the matter. 
What has he to do with the family quarrels ? ’Tis all a puzzle an’ a 
mass of confusion I don’t see my way clear through at all. If one 

could not find some sort of a hint to give a fellow a clew Hulloa ! 

Talk of the devil. What’s here ? ” 

His sharp eyes roving round the room as he spoke, that instant 
lit upon an object half hidden beneath the overthrown table. It was 
the leather memorandum book Ralph had consulted during his inter- 
view with Blythe, and which must have dropped from his pocket 
during the scuffle that ensued. 

“Now who does this little affair belong to ? ” soliloquised Josh turn- 
ing the book over and over with strong curiosity visible in every 
line of his bronzed visage. “ Cap’n or farmer? ’Tis Capn’s, I should 
think — rather too natty a article for Muster Blythe. What’s inside ? 
Hm ! — papers, roll o’ notes, cheques of Lynn Bank. Dangerous, that 


ALBANY STAKK^S REVENGE, 


263 


now, if had fallen into some folks’ hands. Wonder if the papers 
throw any light on this mysterious business. ’T is a sore temptation. 
Could there be any harm in just a little peep ? ” 

In the act of unfolding a long printed strip, the principle of 
honor, become part and parcel of his being from long military service, 
stayed the veteran’s hand. 

“Halt!” he exclaimed. “Josh, consider. What is the man who 
puts his hand into a pocket and takes a purse ? A thief, a mean, 
cowardly thief. What’s he who pries into another’s mind and takes 
his secrets? Thief, rogue, and spy. Worse than the pickpocket, 
cause he — poor devil ! — perhaps steals from necessity, to fill a hungry 
bell^'' ; the spy steals from sneaking curiosity and from choice. A man 
who has worn the king’s uniform with honor can be neither thief, 
nor rogue, nor spy. Get thee behind me, Satan. Go you into my 
pocket, friend, to be restored to-morrow to your rightful owner^ 
’Tention ! Right-about face, quick march !” 

As prompt in action as in speech. Old Josh vanished from the 
room to his own word of command. 

The little parlor had scarcely been vacant five minutes before 
Ralph Lee, missing his memorandum case and furious at the loss, 
burst violently in, and began to search. The briefest possible space 
of time sufficed to convince him what besought was not to be found 
He tore out into the bar and questioned the landlord. Learning with 
some difficulty from this man — an unusually stolid specimen of his 
class — that Blythe and Josh had but recently left, each taking 
different roads, he jumped at once to the dreaded conclusion that 
Edward was in possession of his property, and rushed hot-foot upon 
his track. 

The course Blythe was pursuing led for some little distance close 
beside the sea, then turning rather more inland at about a mile from 
the inn, was crossed at right angles by the road from Paston. The 
intervening space was grass and heather. Short springy turf, kept 
close cropped by sheep, covered the ground between the sea-side 
road and the cliff, which fell abruptly down some fifty or sixty feet 
to the water’s edge. At high tide, as now, no margin of beach was 
to be seen. Here and there a pointed rock arose above the surface, 
bearing evidence to the dangerous character of the coast. The spot 
lay in a hollow, and was singularly desolate and quiet. Not a house, 
not a human form met the eye. The only tokens of life were the 


264 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


occasional tinkle of the melancholy sheep-bell beyond the rise, and 
the sight of a distant sail far out upon the verge ofthe horizon. 

It was late in the afternoon when Edward had met Blande, and 
the subsequent scenes, rapid enough to read of, had occupied con- 
siderable time in enacting. Dusk was drawing on when the farmer 
left the inn. A light mist rising from the dell warned him to keep 
away from the edge of the cliff, but at the same time rendered it im- 
possible for him to discern whether Oliver’s figure was to be seen 
ahead. 

Halting a moment just before he reached the intersecting road a 
peer with his hand above his eyes through the gloom, Blythe heard a 
shout some distance back upon the path. He listened. The shout 
was repeated, nearer now, coupled with oaths and curses in con- 
nection with a name — his own! Facing indignantly round, he ran 
almost into the extended arms of Ralph Lee. 

Panting with his run and breathless from passion, the sailor was 
at first unable to come to words. When he did recover speech, 
it burst from him as tropical rain from a “thunder” cloud. 

“ Give it up this instant I ” he yelled. The contents are private — 
meant for no man’s eye, least of all for yours. Dare to retain my 
property another second, and I’ll tear the heart from 3^our body 
Return, I say, what you have stolen — thief! ” 

“Stolen — thief!” ejaculated Edward, in angry surprise. *You 
must be mad. I ’ve nothing of yours in my possession.” 

“You have, you have! My book, my pocket-book, containing 
private and most important papers. I would n’t lose them for a 
thousand — for any sum that could be named. Come, you can’t have 
had time to look into them. Hand over the book at once, and I ’ll 
forgive the wrong.” 

“ You ’re truly obliging,” returned Edward with a sneer. “But 
’t is n’t I that want forgiveness, i know nothing of your book, 
never saw it, have n’t got it. Better go search elsewhere. ” 

“Liar, as well as thief!” roared Ralph. “Will you drive me to tear 
it from you ? Remember, I’ve spared you once to-day. You ’ll not 
have the same luck again. For the last time I say, give up the 
book.” 

“I can’t return what you know I haven’t got,” returned Edward) 
firmly. “If you are bent on picking a quarrel with me, you must, 


AL BANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


265 


but, depend upon it, I’ll defend m^^self to the last. Stand off. Help! 
Murder! Help!” 

Roused to fury by his refusal and his cries, Ralph rushed upon 
him, and for the second time that day these two men closed in a 
deadly grapple. But not unseen. Oliver Blande, who was only a 
short distance ahead when Blythe halted, had been equally attracted 
by Ralph’s curses and shouts. He ran up during their brief conver- 
sation, and now tried to mediate between them. 

“ Gentlemen,” he exhorted, “pray be c^lm. Don’t give way to 
your tempers like a couple of furious costermongers. Be reasonable 
Mr. Blythe; Captain Lee, do keep cool. 

He laid hold as he spoke of Ralph’s arm, and tried to disengage 
him from his antagonist. Without a word the sailor shook off 
Blythe, and turning upon the peace-maker, fairly knocked him down. 

This interlude enabled the farmer once more to attempt escape. 
He darted off at the top of his speed, but, unfortunately bewildered, 
instead of directing his course inland he ran towards the sea. Ralph 
was upon him in a couple of panther-like bounds, and the struggle 
re-commenced with grenter fury than before. Oliver, cured of at- 
tempts at intervention, had meanwhile risen to his knee. 

“Curses on him!” he muttered, as he watched the swaying fig- 
ures. “ If I did n’t hope to come to terms with him yet, I ’d help the 
farmer. He ’s no match for Lee. My God ! — they ’re over! ” 

He was up in a second, fan to the spot whence the two 
struggling bodies had that moment disappeared, cast himself down, 
and gazed cautiously over the edge of the cliff. A dull splash, the 
spray from which flecked his cheek, rose up from below, succeeded by 
a cry of terrible agony; the water churned and foamed violently for 
a minute, as if the death struggle were going on beneath its surface ; 
then all was dreadfully quiet and still. 

Trembling in every limb, Oliver rose up with a blanched and 
horror-stricken-face. 

“ It ’s perhaps the luckiest thing that could have happened,” he 
muttered, as he slowly walked back to The Towers, “though I 
hardly see all the advantages yet. Still, I’d have given something 
not to have heard that cry.” 


266 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


CHAPTER XLl. 


A LEGAL DEFINITION. 

The necessity of following up the schemes of Oliver Blande to the 
fatal termination we have just seen has caused us to lose sight tor a 
time of a personage by no means unimportant in this history. We 
resume his career with an interest proportioned to his virtues. 

Nat Tiptoft’s last appearance upon our mimic stage was dra- 
matic. The unexpected downfall of sundry directories and an office- 
stool led to his detection in eaves-dropping by Stark and Riggs. The 
sound of his footsteps clattering down the stairs and gradually dy- 
ing away in the distance upon the pavement of the Inn afforded the 
latest echo of his presence that has been heard these threescore 
pages. 

“The course Nat had made up his mind to pursue was odd, bu^^ 
from his point of view, perhaps, not unwise. Believing he had 
offended Stark beyond hope of forgiveness, he at once determined to 
throw the weight of his imaginary influence into the opposite scale, 
and desert to the hostile camp. That there was such a thing as a 
hostile camp in existence, he thought satisfactorily established. 
Ridgs, Stark’s creature, had attempted the life of Oliver Blande, 
Stark’s confidential agent. So much Nat had gathered from the 
conversation he had overheard. Failing in the attack, Riggs had 
immediately come to report his ill-success to Stark. 

“ Ergo,’’ reasoned Nat, “there must be enmity. Is it avowed or 
or secret? If the first, I do Blande a service by telling him how ill 
Riggs has rewarded his clemency, and get into his good graces that 
way. If the second, I put him on his guard against future danger, 
and so earn a title to his gratitude. In either case I gain his confi- 
dence and help him in his plans— be they what they may — against 
Stark. By ni^'‘bling the net, the mouse in the fable released the lion. 
It may be reserved for ’umble Nathaniel Rabbetts — yah ! hateful 
name! — Tiptoft to set free the magnificer+ Captain Oliver Blande.” 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE, 


267 


The calculation was subtle, but possessed one radical fault. It 
made no allowance for unforeseen incident. The catastrophe to 
Blythe and Lee had entirely changed Blande’s plans, and Nat’s in- 
genious house of cards went down in the hurly-burly that ensued. 

Blissfully unconscious of the fruitless errand upon which he sped, 
Nat spent the greater part of the day upon the top of the stage- 
coach that set him down towards evening in the market-place at 
Lynn. Refreshed with meat and drink, and furnished by the waiter 
at the tavern where the “ Highflyer” put up with instructions as to 
his road, the traveler set forth in search of Oliver Blande at The 
Towers. The hour was as nearly as might be the precise time when 
Lee encountered his brother in-law in their final struggle upon the 
cliff by the shore. 

Puffing his hardest at a mild yet evil-scented cigar, and fully per- 
suaded his distinguished air and fashionable appearance were the 
cause of the notice he excited as he passed out of the town, Nat 
paced with a sense of amazing dignity the road he had been directed 
to proceed. Half-an-hour’s easy walking, he had understood, would 
bring him to his destination, but nearly twice that period passed, 
and no house at all resembling the description he had received of 
The Towers appeared. To dispel an uneasy misgiving by which he 
began to be assailed, Nat lowered the topsails of his dignity so far 
as to ask his way. 

Knocking at the door of a small cottage by the roadside, whose 
trim and neatly-kept garden gave token of its proprietor being a 
man of orderly and regular mind, Nat put his question in the drawl 
he was accustomed to believe the unerring token of fashionable 
elegance. 

As luck would have it, the cottage at which he applied was that 
of Old Josh, and the veteran himself, pipe in hand, appeared in per- 
son at the door. 

“Towers, my lad 1 ” e^aclaimed the soldier. “Lord love yer inno- 
cence, ye’re a good couple o’ mile off the road. Wh 3 q you must ha’ 
took the wrong turning arter passing the ’pike. You’re now full 
march for Paston.” 

“Demmit, ya don’t say so!” ejaculated Nat, in real dismay. 
“Ged consume these country roads. They ’rejfeally most confusing 
to a gentleman. Pray — er — my friend, can ya put me in the right 
way ? Shall be ’appy to— er — remunerate ya for yar trouble.” 


268 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


The sergeant-major ran his eye up and down the pompous little 
figure, and his experience accurately gauged the depth of his preten- 
tensions to gentility. Among his officers Josh had seen too much of 
the article stamped with the real Hall mark, to be taken in by 
spurious metal. The humor latent in the man awoke, and he re- 
solved to give himself a little diversion by fooling Tiptoft to the top 
of his bent. 

“ Beg pardon, yer honor,” said Josh, suddenly saluting, with an 
air of the deepest respect. “I really did n’t perceive who you was 
at first, but I stands corrected now. ’T was very wrong to speak 
so familiar. No offence, I ’opes, yer honor.’’ 

*‘No, my man, no,” returned Nat, graciously, with a condescending 
wave of the hand, “gentlemen don’t — er — often come into these— er 
— parts, I gether? ” 

The air of insufferable coxcombry with which he fixed a glass in 
his eye and surveyed Josh patronizingly from head to foot almost 
conquered the veteran’s gravity. By a powerful effort he kept back 
a traitorous chuckle, and carried on the game. 

“ Not your sort, your honor ; dear no, not by no means. But if I 
mowt make so bold to ax a favor, as ma3ffiap 3^er honor’s tired 
with the walk, and ’t is some distance back to The Towers, would 
yer honor mind steppin’ in to rest a moment an’ taste our country 
ale? The sky looks very black; ’t is my opinion we shall hev a 
storm.” 

A few thick drops of rain, falling at the moment, backed Josh’s 
argument. Nat graciously consenting to be entertained, was ushered 
with great state into the best room. 

With many apologies for the humble nature of the accommoda- 
tions. Josh bustled about and speedily produced a foaming jug of 
capital ale. Respectful inquiry whether his visitor smoked being 
answered in the affirmative, the veteran brought out clean pipes and 
tobacco, closed the shutters, lit his candles, stirred up the fire, and 
prepared to pass a social, cozy night. 

It was so rarely Josh got hold of a fresh listener that he may be 
pardoned for his delight. Dealer in marvels by prescriptive right, it 
was long since so favorable an opportunity of discharging his stores 
of tale and anecdote iilto an altogether new channel had presented 
itself. The rain, descending now in a steady' even downpour that 
gave little prospect of cessation, would prevent his finikin listener 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


269 


from departure while it lasted. Josh promised himself an evening 
of happiness in detailing all his adventures, and made up his mind 
also not to allow his visitor to leave until he had ascertained the 
object of his seeking The Towers. 

True to the traditions of an old campaigner, Josh was not the 
man to let the grass grow under his feet when he had an object in 
view. A well-directed question or two soon elicited the fact of Nat’s 
total ignorance of military affairs, and gave a favorable opportunity 
for bringing in the Battle of Waterloo. The celebrated model was 
drawn from its abiding place; the Noah’s Ark, containing the parti- 
colored needles that figured as troops upon the mimic field, the straw 
Hougoumont, the parks of artillery, the redoubted Boney, and the 
Iron Duke with rehabilitated nose — in short, all the properties ap- 
pertaining to the correct performance of the drama it was the 
veteran’s greatest pleasure to enact — again came into view. Man- 
ager Josh soon marshalled his forces, and plunged head foremost 
into the thick of the fight. 

The typic war within was emulated by the sterner and more 
actual tumult of the elements without. The rain descended in tor- 
rents and in sheets, stray drops that made their way down the 
crooked shaft of the chimney, hissing as they spurted out their 
brief existence in the flame. The wind swept round the cottage with 
an angry roar, dying away at times into a dismal moan that sounded 
like the groans of a sufferer stricken with terrible disease. Nature 
seemed sounding a dirge for those who had but a few short hours 
before been summoned so rudely to their last account. 

Within, Josh was at the height of his glory. The Waterloo cam- 
paign brought successfully to a close, he plunged into other reminis- 
cences of his military career, and of the wonders he had seen and 
performed in the various quarters of the globe. Nat made a capital 
listener, being really entertained. Warming under the combined in- 
fluences of the sergeant-major’s vivacity, the excellence of tbe ale, 
and the sedative qualities of the tobacco, he contributed his share 
b\'' an occasional song or anecdote to the amusement of the evening. 
The only point upon which he still felt some uneasiness, was when 
the patter of the rain upon the window-panes reminded him of the 
impending dreary walk through the tempest back to Lynn. Upon 
this, however, Josh presently set him at his ease. 

“Ged! what a night! ” Nat had remarked with a shiver. “ Hark, 


270 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


how the wind howls. Just listen to that rain. I shall get soaked to 
the skin before I reach the town.” 

“Not if I know it, my lad,” cried hospitable Josh, grown quite 
familiar by this time with his new friend. “Why, I would n’t turn 
a dog out, such a beast of a night as this, much less a jolly little 
chap like you. How long do you reckon on stopping down in these 
parts?” 

“ Not above a day, or at most two. It depends entirely upon Cap- 
tain Blande.” 

“Hah ! H’m ! Yes, to be sure. I s’pose so. Captain ’s a high gen- 
tleman. Good family, well connected, fasionable clubs, lots o’ money 
an’ so forth, no doubt — hey ? ” 

“ I believe you,” returned Nat with a wink, “More than he knows 
what to do with sometimes, so we take care of it for him, and only 
let him have a little at a time. D’ ye see ? ” 

“Ay, ay, I understand,” said Josh, reciprocating the wink, of the 
true meaning of which he was, as you may imagine, utterly 
unaware. “ S’pose that ’s the business you ’re down here upon now 
— ain’t it ? ” 

“Well, something of the kind,” returned Nat, blowing out his 
cheeks with an important air. “ Professional advice to client, all to 
be charged for in the bill. You twig, I see.” 

“Ah, sure-l\%” rejoined Josh, more puzzled than before. “D’ye know, 
the moment I set eyes on 3^ou, I thought you was something in the 
law. Fine business, ain’t it ? ” 

“Glorious,” replied Nat, with an assumption of amazing wisdom. 
“But very difficult. Takes years upon years of study before you get 
to the bottom of it, but when you do, the interest’s absorbing.” 

“No doubt. Been long in the busine.ss now, sir?” asked Josh, 
with a visible increase of respect for his visitor — real this time, not 
fictitious. 

“\\/^ell — er — ya-as ; a goodish time. Some seventeen or eighteen 
years.” 

Considering Nat was still under thirty, and young-looking for 
his age, the experience derived from the early pursuit of his legal 
studies must have been a trifle crude. But Josh had no leisure just 
then to weigh probabilities. An idea had occurred to him, of which 
he was anxious to test the value upon competent authority. Here 
was the opportunity. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


271 


“ Indeed ! ” he rejoined. As long as that, eh ? Then I s’pose now 
you’re well up in all legal matters. I mean, there’s few questions 
relatin’ to law as you could n’t tackle.” 

Nat simpered with a modest consciousness of ability. “No man 
should praise himself,” he replied bashfull 3 ^, ‘‘but I think I may sa 3 '’ 
if any man in Clement’s Inn can give you a sound opinion, it’s me. 
What is it you want to know ? ” 

“ Well look ye here now,” answered Josh eagerly , producing Ralph 
Lee’s pocket-book. “You vsee this ’ere article. I found that to-day, 
and I think I knows who lost it. But I ain’t sure. It might be that 
party, or it might be another; but one o’ them two it sartinly is. 
Now o’ course I want to give it back to the owner. But how am I 
to know which o’ them two parties it belongs to ? Inside there ’s 
papers, from which we can most likely diskiver. Now what 1 wants 
to ax you, as a gent lamed in the law, is this; am I justified in ex- 
aminin’ o’ those papers, to find out the rightful owner? ” 

Nat withdrew his pipe from his mouth, took up the pocket-book 
solemnly, peeped into it inquisitively, poised it in his hand, then 
slowly laid it down. Judicial gravity and acumen could hardly 
have been more ridiculously caricatured then in the grave and owl- 
like air of stupendous wisdom with which he pursed up his lips and 
frowned in vast profundity of thought. Finally he took a long pull 
at the ale-jug, and then delivered judgment. 

“ Hem ! A-hem ! The case before the court involves a knotty point. 
Nothing less indeed than the interpretation of the law of trover. 
Now the court has no hesitation in declaring that the law in this 
particular respect is in a very defective state. With that fact it is 
not our business to deal. We sit here to administer the law as it 
is, not as people may suppose it ought to be. You follow me, I 
hope?” * 

Josh nodded eager assent. 

“Good ; then we continue. The case under consideration we take 
to be as follows: — You, my good friend, whom for brevity we will 
call A, have found certain proper B, which we know to belong to 
C, or to D. At present B is vested in A, but A being only the acci- 
dental orfortuitous bailee, desires to transfer B to C or D, so soon 
as he can discover whether of the twain thereto is lawfully entitled. 
But A, I take it, is in this dilemma. Should he hand B over to C, 
and should D learn he has so c!V)ne, D may substantiate his claim to 


272 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE.^ 


B and bring an action against A for illegal transfer, whereupon A 
may be cast in heavy damages. Similarly with respect to C. — Now 
I do hope you follow, because this is very important. Are you quite 
sure you understand ? ” 

“ ’T is a bit confusing at first, acause of all them blessed A’s and 
B’s,” confessed Josh, “but I dessay it ’ll come right presently.” 

“ Shall I go over it again for you ?” kindly offered Nat. 

“Oh Lor’, no, governor! ” ejaculated Josh in alarm. “Spin away. 
I’ll make him out in time. Never fear.” 

“ Yeiy good. Although A is in the above stated dilemma, yet we 
conceive him also to hold certain advantages which may go as a set- 
off. First, he has possession, universally admitted to be nine points 
of the law. Next, probably C and D are both unaware of that pos- 
session, in whieh case it is difficult to see how an action against A 
would lie. Is that so ? ” 

“How should I know, man? That’s just what I’m axing you 
about.” 

“ Just so ; but is C or D aware of the possession of B by A ? ” 

“ How the deuce can I tell ? D ’ye suppose I ’d ax advice if I knew 
the law o’ the matter ? ” 

“Dear, dear! ” ejaculated the court, falling back upon the ale-jug in 
despair. “ How extremely diffieult it is to instill legal maxims into 
the unprofessional mind. Look here, man, I told you to be sure you 
understood. Now, I must go over the whole case again from the 
beginning.” 

“No, I’m blowed if you do. My head ’sail a-spin a’ready with 
them cursed letters. Why can’t you say what you mean in plain 
English, an’ ha’ done with it?” 

Swelling with importance at the imaginary judicial position he 
had persuaded himself he was occupying, Nat’s native arrogance 
overcame his acquired prudence. He threw himself back in his seat, 
stuffed his thumbs into the armholes of his waisteoat, and assumed 
his most supercilious air of would-be fashionable disdain. 

“Most astonishing!” he broke out. “I really couldn’t have 
believed in sueh ignorance, even in the military mind. Whawt a 
phenomenon ! Why the man actually does n’t comprehend a fig-gar ! 
Turn this way, my good fella, and let me inspect you. Ke-mairkable!” 

Nat pulled out his eye-glass, and perused Josh’s manly form with 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


273 


as much curiosity as if he were some rare zoological specimen. Much 
to the Oracle’s displeasure. 

“Look you here, my spark ! ’’ said Josh, flushing up and twisting 
his moustache wrathfully. “If you was n’t such a miserable little 
Hoi)-o’-my-Thumb, I’d let you know an old soldier’s not to be in- 
sulted with impunity. As it is, I don’t want to soil my fingers with 
hiirtin’ of a dwarf. Only keep you a civil tongye in your head, or 
mayhap you ’ll see the outside of the door quicker than you reckons 
on— that’s all.’’ 

Indignation had hitherto silenced Nat; now he burst out. 

“ Hop-o’-my-Thumb — dwarf! Why, you thick-headed, muddy- 
brained, half-pay numb-skull — ” 

He never ended the speech. In a second. Josh had him by the 
scruff of the neck, lifted him up as easily as one would raise a kitten, 
and, notwithstanding his cries and kicks and struggles, deposited 
him in the road outside amidst the pouring rain. This act of retribu- 
tion ended, Nemesis returned to the cottage and banged the door. 


CHAPTER XLII. 


DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. 

Realise, who can, Nat’s feelings at his sudden and unexpected 
eviction. 

Three minutes back in a warm, dry, cozy room, with plentiful 
supply of good cheer and the prospect of a comfortable lodging for 
the night; consulted as a pundit learned in the law, his judgment 
eagerly listened to as worthy of respect. Now cold, comfortless, wet 
— fast growing wetter — the certainty of a long and dreary walk 
before him ere he reached his inn, and the likelihood of every bod^^ in 
the house having retired when he did. Add the indignity of having 
had his size disparaged — his most sensitive point — and of having been 
turned neck and crop out of his entertainer’s house, and you will 


274 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


understand how he ruefully compared past with present, and looked 
forward with considerable gloom into the future. 

Nat could have cut out his tongue for anger at the unlucky slip 
which had entailed these disagreeable results. As it was, he bit the 
unruly member until the smart of the pain recalled him to the folly 
of that mode of retaliation. Retreating out of the rain to the porch 
of Josh’s cottage, he speedily made up his mind to eat the leek and 
beg forgiveness. 

Good- hearted Josh was not implacable. After a brief parley he 
re-admitted the penitent, upon promise of good behavior, and in a 
few minutes more i he two were seated together as placably to all 
outward appearance as if the breach had never occurred. 

But the insult Nat chose to imagine he had received was by no 
means forgiven. Leaving out of sight the fact that he had richly 
deserved by his insolent and opprobrious language the very slight 
punishment received, the quarrel rankled in his memory, as disputes 
generally do rankle in the paltry and little-minded spirit, until he felt 
that nothing but the prospect of speedy vengeance could restore him 
to peace. 

Rendered wise by his experience of Josh’s hasty temper and 
strength of arm, he was too prudent, now, to display resentment. 
Just so does the base-bred cur crouch and wince beneath the chasten- 
ing lash, but snap and hold on his gripe when the master’s eye is 
removed. 

Come now, my lad,” said Josh, good-naturedly, after one or two 
fruitless attempts to restore the amicable tone that had previously 
subsisted between them. “Don’t bear malice. I was a bit hasty, 
mayhap, but then you was provoking, so that squares us. Shake 
hands, and let’s forget and forgive.” 

“ Ye— yes, certainly,” responded Nat faintly, with a mental reserva- 
tion. “To be sure, forg'et and forgive,” then added in an inward 
whisper, — “after a fashion.” 

“That’s hearty. Now to go back to where we was before. You 
see, this ’ere book must belong either to Muster Blythe orCap’nLee. 
In any case, as there’s papers inside, ’tis likely neither might like a 
stranger, so to speak, to see what they contain. But without doing 
so who ’s to tell the owner ? What d’ye think ? ” 

The names of the possible owners — mentioned now for the first 
time — at once caught Nat’s attention. Here was an opportunitv. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


275 


lie thought, of getting deeper into the secret object of Oliver’s mis- 
sion to Lynn than he had yet penetrated. What if the book con- 
tained a clue that, followed up warily, might give him a decided hold 
upon Blande or Stark? The knowledge would, perhaps, enable him 
to judge with which of the two it would be most to his interest to 
cast in his lot. As these ideas flashed through his mind, he saw from 
Josh’s inquiring look and air of wonder, that the veteran was impa- 
tiently waiting for a reply. 

“Well,” answered Nat, slowly, as if meditating, but in reality to 
gain time for decision, “you see, as I said before, it’s a knotty point 
— very so. If you really don’t know which of these gentlemen — I for- 
got the names you mentioned — lost the book, of course you ’re 
entitled to examine it, to see who really is the owner.” 

“You ’re sure of that! ” retorted Josh eagerly. “Then by George 
I’ll over-haul it to-morrow.” 

“But,” continued Nat, “for your own sake I should advise you 
doing so in presence of a competent witness. Papers might be lost, 
you see, and you be made responsible, unless you ’re in a position to 
prove everything is in the same state as when you found it. If you 
like to inspect it in my presence, for instance, I shall be happy to 
testify — ” 

“Won’t do,” returned Josh, with a rapid shake of the head. 
“Should n’t feel justified in exposing perhaps important family 
papers to any stranger. If that ’s the only condition, it can ’t be 
done.” 

“Why not?” urged Nat. “’Tis your safest course. No one can 
venture then to accuse you of making away with anything the book 
contains.” 

“Young man,” returned Josh, drawing himself up with dignity, 
“no one who knows Josh Rich ever found him guilty of anything dis- 
honest or mean. No, I give it up. There it shall lie till the morning, 
and then I ’ll ask the gentlemen point blank to which on ’em it 
belongs.” 

He threw the pocket-book back upon the mantelpiece, and the 
subject dropped. Covertly, and at intervals, during the course of 
the evening, Nat tried to bring round conversation to the point of the 
discovery, but Josh’s straightforward honesty refused to understand 
his hints, and he did not venture to be explicit. The hour growing 


276 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


late, Josh ushered his guest into a comfortable bedroom, wished him 
a good night’s rest, and withdrew to his own apartment. 

An hour, perhaps, had passed, and the little cottage was perfectly 
quiet and still. Both its inmates were apparently wrapped in pro. 
found repose. The rain still came down heavily, though the wind 
had dropped as the night wore on to morning, and though the dull 
plash of the descending torrent, broke out at regular intervals the 
hollow roll of the sea upon the distant shore. 

Whether Nat had really slumbered or only feigned sleep, it is 
impossible to tell. Now, at any rate, he slid rapidly, yet gently, from 
his bed, hastily thaew on a few garments, and relighted his candle 
by the help of a flint and steel. 

“LucIva^ I always carry these with me,” he muttered. “They ’ll 
serve my purpose famously to-night.” 

Shading the candle with his hand, he noiselessly unclosed his 
door, and bent out to listen. From the opposite end of the passage 
came a steady sonorous rise and fall of sound, like the approach and 
retreat of near and distant thunder. Its resemblance to the vox 
Immana stop of an organ at once taught Nat that it proceeded from 
the fine and delicate musical instrument represented by his enter- 
tainer’s nose. 

“All right. Fast as a church, and snoring — rather. Nowto busi- 
ness,” he whispered, and sat down at his toilet-table. 

What might the business be which engaged his attention at this 
untimely hour? This. Upon quitting the parlor when retiring to 
bed, Nat — a fair professor of domestic legerdemain — had contrived, 
in passing the mantelpiece, to sweep off the book which had already 
formed the subject of so much discussion. Producing it now from his 
pocket, with a grin of vast delight at the reflection how completel^^ 
he had circumvented Josh, he at once proceeded to examine its con- 
tents. 

Some indistinct sense of danger to the precious book forming the 
object of his dreams probably roused Josh from his performance upon 
the bagpipes when Nat began his examination of his prize, and 
startled him in a moment broad awake. It was the veteran’s fear- 
less habit to sleep with his chamber door wide open. No bolts or 
locks for him. Thief or burglar was unknown at that day in these 
primitive country places. Native maraudi g lalent did not exist, 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


277 


and I should have pitied the London high art practitioner who 
placed his anatomy within reach of Josh Rich’s sturd 3 ^ gi'ip- 

From his bed the sergeant-major’s eye ranged along the passage 
to his guest’s three-parts closed door at the other end, and there, to 
his great amazement, he beheld a light. Curiosity being anything 
but a dormant passion in his manly breast, he at once resolved to 
examine into the cause of Tiptoft’s wakefulness. 

Could Nat have supposed, while eagerly inspecting the papers in 
the pocket-book, that a grim and night-capped visage was intently 
survejdng his operations from the door of his room, I fear me the 
smirk of congratulation at his superior sharpness would have 
changed into an expression of dolorous dismay. 

Letters and accounts addressed Captain Lee,” chuckled Nat, 
tumbling the contents of the book out upon his table. “ Hem ! That 
settles the question of ownership. What next ? Cards and a shoot- 
ing license. Bah ! In the pocket a — hey ! Certificate of marriage be- 
tween Walter Gray, mariner, bachelor, and Inez — hm!hm! That’s 
important; we’ll put that by. Further, certificate of baptism of 
Juan, son of Walter and Inez Gray. Goes with the marriage lines. 
What the deuce is this other affair ? Cutting from NLorning Chroni- 
cle, April 15, 1812! That’s not been preserved without some reason. 
Let ’s see if we can find out what it is.” 

Nat settled himself to peruse the extract, drawing the candle near 
his face. By the light that shone full upon the features reflected in 
the glass, the watcher saw his eye run rapidly down the printed lines, 
and an expression of strong interest dawn into his countenance. 
Suppressed exclam at ons of astonishment broke from him as he read 
on, and when he had finished the extract — not of great length — he 
sprang from his seat in a quiver of unmistakeable delight. 

“ Eureka ! ” he cried, as loudly as he dared. ” I ’ve got the clue to 
this one of old Blackface’s secrets, at any rate. Now let him threaten 
me if he dares, and I can show my teeth. Stay! To make certain 
I’ll take a cop 3 " of it at once.” 

A grim smile flitted over Josh’s features at this announcement, as, 
shaking with silent laughter at the joke he had determined playing, 
he withdrew to his room. 

Nat eagerly commenced his task of copying the cutting, but had 
not accomplished more than half-a-dozen lines before he was brought 
to an abrupt conclusion. From the end of the passage came a por- 


278 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


tentous yawn, as of a man suddenly aroused from sleep. Nat was 
on his feet in a second. Eagerly huddling the papers into the pocket- 
book, he stood prepared to extinguish his candle and rush back to 
bed. 

“Ya — ah — ah!” went the yawner. “Wish I could get a wink of 
sleep. Haven’t closed an eye these two hours. I’m sure I heard 
something creeping along the passage. Get along down stairs, you 
mouse-hunting brute! ” 

With the words a heavy slipper crashed against Nat’s door, fol- 
lowed by the sharp wail as of a grimalkin in sudden agony— Josh was 
a capital mimic and a bit of a ventriloquist into the bargain — and 
succeeded by plaintive mewlings gradually receding to the realms 
below. 

The slipper was enough for Nat. Puff! out went his light in an 
instant, and one flying leap carried him into bed, where he lay quak- 
ing underneath the coverlet long after the regular drone of Josh’s 
bagpipes proclaimed that the veteran had resumed his nightly tune. 

When Nat finally plucked up sufficient courage to grope his way 
yo the toilet-table in search of his prize, he found that book and 
papers — the original documents and his own private copy — had all 
miraculously disappeared. The enemy had made a descent upon the 
field, and carried off the booty. Worse than all, old Josh held the 
evidence of the ill-return his guest had meditated for his hospitality. 


CHAPTER XLIII. 


GIVING THE ALARM. 

It was a curious meeting at breakfast next morning between 
Oracle Josh Rich and Nat Tiptoft, his guest. Each was secretly 
jubilant at having, by dint of superior sharpness, thoroughly out- 
witted the other. Throughout the meal, Josh continually brokeinto 
snatches of irrepressible glee as he thought of the dismay his artful 
ruse of the slipper must have cast into the enemy’s camp. Yet there 
was an ill-concealed air of triumph about Nat too, for which his 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


279 


entertainer conld not account, but which certainly seemed at vari- 
ance with the depression suitable to a properly disposed beaten man. 

The fact was, both had something to boast of in the way of 
victory, though neither knew exactly the extent of his success. In 
domestic diplomacy, as in war, drawn battles are more frequent 
than brilliant triumphs. 

A little passage of arms occurred between the pair. Not a 
pitched battle, by any means; rather a desultory kind of skirmish — 
vox et prceterea nihil, much cry and little wool — ending by leaving 
the belligerents in about the same position after the smoke cleared 
away as when the rattle of the small-arm-fire began. 

“Hope you ^ad a good night\s rest, .sir,” observed Josh with a sup- 
pressed chuckle. “ It was a long rime afore I could get to sleep my- 
self. The rain kept me awake, I s’pose. Ho, ho ’ 

“Never slept better in my life; thanky,” replied Nat cheerfully. “ A 
famous bed, that of yours. I went off as fast as a church the momen t 
my head touched the pillow.” 

“Did ye now? So glad. Thought ma^^hap you might ha’ been 
disturbed a little by the — ho, ho ! — by the cat.” 

“Not in the least. Did n’t know you had such an animal in the 
’ouse.” 

“Nor I have n’t neither. But one got in last night, somehow. A 
stray. Caught sight of him jumping out o’ the kitchen windowthis 
morning. A hugly rum-lookin’ brute with great red whiskers.” 

Josh glanced incidentally at Tiptoft’s luxuriant beard. The shot 
told. Nat flushed up to the roots rf his hair. 

“Brute must ha’ sneaked upstairs after a mouse, I fancy,” con- 
tinued Josh. “Them stray Toms is such cursed impertinent beggars. 
’T won’t be healthy for that one if I catch him lurking about my 
premises again. I’ll skin the varmint,” concluded the speaker, 
flourishing the bread-knife, accidentally just before Tiptoft’s nose, 
“alive!” 

Nat started up in alarm, but, recollecting that it would not do 
to show he understood his host, sat down again. “ And serve him 
right — quite right,” he stuttered. “But — but I don’t know either. 
The poor brute can’t help his nature, can he ? ” 

“Well, no, p’raps not,” returned Josh, liberally, “p’raps not. 
Nature will be nature, in a sly and crafty animal, as in a mean and 
sneaking man. Best treat ’em both as something below contempt. 


230 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


Give ’em a hearty kick by way of a caution not to meddle in what 
don’t concern ’em, and turn away. — Hush ! was that a knock ? ” 

“ Vr — yes, I think it was,” stammered Nat, and Josh quitted the 
room. 

‘ liy George ! ” whispered Nat, spinningabout distractedly from anc 
foot to another, “this is getting hot. I’d better be off before he 
finds out any more, or who the deuce can tell whether I shall get 
away at all. I wish to goodness I’d never touched the confounded 
book , and yet, I don’t know, something may come of it decidedly to 
my advantage. Who can he be talking to, I wonder ? ” 

The love of eaves-dropping was so deeply engrained in thissmall- 
souled creature’s mind, that I believe he would far rather have over- 
heard anything surreptitiouslj^ than have been made acquainted 
with it in an open and straightforward way. Yet being morally 
and physically a coward, whenever he listened, he quaked in dread 
of discovery. It was a fearful pleasure at the best. But some men 
are constructed thus : or rather, it is more correct to say, become 
through laxity of principle, through constant intercourse with sor- 
did minds, through always striving after low and mean and selfish 
objects, so strangely warped and twisted from the fair and noble 
mould in which. humanity was originally cast, that the crooked 
path is more congenial to their distorted natures than the straight. 

To these Tiptoft belonged. We have already detected him in- 
dulging in his propensity — essentially the habit of a dishonorable 
mind — at Stark’s chambers, and have seen the troubles to which it 
led. But Nat was like the Bourbons. Suffer as he might, he learned 
and forgot nothing. When temptation fell in his way, he was as 
the dog that turned to his vomit again, and the sow to her wallow- 
ing in the mire. 

Josh had carelessly left the door slightly ajar. Nat slipped to it 
upon tiptoe and listened. What he heard nailed him with curiosity 
to the spot. The speaker was Oliver Blande. 

“I tell you, man, I saw it with my own eyes. Lee charged the 
farmer with having found or stolen — at any rate got into his posses- 
sion — some pocket-book on which he seemed to set extraordinary 
value.” 

“ Yes, yes. I found it after they had left the inn. Go on, sir ; what 
happened next ? ” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


281 


**Ah! — that explains the business. Have you got it still? I’ll 
take charge of it, if you like — for the widow.” 

“The widow! good heavens! Cap’n, why you never mean to 
say ” 

“ I do indeed. Blythe angrily repelled the charge. Lee persisted, 
swore he would search him, and caught him by the throat. I tried 
to interfere, but it was useless. Both were like madmen. In the 
struggle they rolled towards the edge of the cliff, and went over. 
They must have perished instantly.” 

“Good God, how awful! and you did nothing — raised no alarm — 
made not an effort to save them ? Why did n’t you come on at once 
tome^” 

Having had the night to think over these obvious questions, 
Oliver was at no loss for a reply. 

“No earthly efforts would have been of use,” he answered mourn- 
fully. “I ’ve just been looking at the spot this morning. The cliff 
descends sheer forty feet into the sea; the night was'dark and misty ; 
they must have been dashed to pieces upon the jagged rocks below.” 

“ But still we might have tried. However, all’s too late now. 
What on earth is to be done ? ” 

“It’s to settle that I come to you. Unfortunately most pressing 
business summons me to town, and I must be off immediately to 
catch the coach. Do all you can to recover the bodies; then break 
the sad news at The Towers and the Grange. W^'hat I’m partic- 
ularly anxious to impress upon you is this. As a man of the world, 
discreet and wise, you’ll see no earthly purpose can be served by 
speaking of the quarrel that led to this misfortune. Deep grief would 
only be inflicted upon the survivors, whose sorrow will be deep 
enough already. Let it be supposed that all was accident, as indeed 
it probably was. You understand ? ” 

“ I see, Cap’n. That’s kind and thoughtful, and I quite agree with 
you. Rely on me.” 

“ I knew I could. For the same reason you ’d better not acquaint 
any one with what I have told you now. Don’t say I witnessed the 
affair, or speak of me as in any way mixed up with it. Better not 
mention my name. 

“ I see, I see. Depend upon it I ’ll keep a still tongue.” 

“To be sure; so best. Well then, good-bye. It’s most unlucky 
I’m compelled to leave at such a time, but I could n’t intrust sa del- 


282 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


icate a matter to better bands. In two or three days at latest, you 
shall see or hear from me again. Meanwhile, farewell.^* 

Blande shook hands cordially with his humble friend, who felt at 
once proud and overwhelmed at such an unexpected honor, and set 
off for Lynn at a rapid pace. He had already turned an angle of the 
road, and was congratulating himself upon the skill with which he 
had transferred to Josh’s broad shoulders the painful duties and 
scenes connected with the recovery of the lost men, and the inquiry 
that could not fail to ensue. 

“ Come,” he exclaimed, exultingly. “ So far we’ve outmanoeuvred 
Waterloo. With all that good fellow’s knowledge of tactics, belittle 
thinks how adroitly he’s been made a tool of. But the forces were 
hardly equal. A man who has graduated in Stark’s university is as 
superior to plain straightforwardness as the Lord Chief Baron to 
an idiot. Now off to town with the fresh discovery, and then to 
strike the great blow that shall lead to independence and to liberty, 
to Guenever and love. — Hulloa! What now ? ” 

The sound of his own name, borne repeatedly towards him 
through the stillness of the morning air, arrested his footsteps. 
Turning, he saw a panting little figure rush rapidly round the cor- 
ner in the direction he had come, and make towards him. As it ran 
up, he recognised Nat Tiptoft. 

Tew words sufficed to clear up Oliver’s amazement at this unex- 
pected apparition. Nat was sufficiently astute to keep his own 
counsel about the conversation he had just overheard, and confined 
himself to a hasty detail of the reasons that had brought him in 
search of Blande. Rapidly surveying the situation of affairs, the 
Captain at once decided that Nat’s intelligence contained nothing 
that need interfere with his preconceived determination of instantly 
seeking Stark. Acquainting Nat with this fact, he went on to advise 
him to be his companion back to London, where he thought he could 
undertake to make his peace with his employer. An armistice at 
any rate might be patched up, until the permanent clauses of a last- 
ing treaty were arranged. Already sick of his venture into the tur- 
bid waters of intrigue, where he was every moment getting further 
beyond his depth, the clerk was only too glad to accede to a pro- 
posal which re-opened to him the vista of his former easy and un- 
troubled life. 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


283 


The two reached Lynn in time for the coach, and by the evening 
safely regained the metropolis. 


CHAPTER XLI V. 


THE ODOR OF SaNCTITY. 

Premature death is rarely fair to look upon. Even in its least 
hideous aspect — in the case ot an innocent child early snatched away 
from the arms of sorrowing parents — although - we try to persuade 
ourselves that it is good the loved one has been spared the trials and 
hardships of the cruel world; although we seek to reconcile ourselves 
to the bereavement by silent, if tearful, submission to the Almighty 
will that has taken our treasure from us ; although we hang with 
throbbing hearts over the scarce-cold, silent figure — 

Before decay’s effacing fingers 

Have swept the lines where bean ty lingers; 

even, I say, in this its least repulsive aspect, Man, warm and instinct 
with life, unconsciously shudders at, shrinks back, and recoils from 
pallid, grim-visaged death. 

If this feeling be so strong when thp Destroyer comes to us in his 
mildest form, far more powerful must itnecessarily be when we stand 
by the side of a human being in the prime of manhood, hurried in a 
second out of existence by the violent and painful expulsion of the 
spirit from its earthly covering. In no class of disease is this more 
observable than in the bodies of those who have been drowned. Per- 
sons revived after unconsciousness induced by semi-drowning, are 
reported to have declared the sensation of passing away highly 
agreeable. They dreamt they were in green fields, under sunny skies, 
amidst delicious landscapes. Unfortunately for the truth of this de- 
lightful theory, the awful nature of the shock that has parted soul 
and body is typified in the distorted features of the drowned in a 
peculiarly distressing manner. The starting eye-ball, the protruding 
tongue, the dropped jaw, the livid greyness of the dulled complexion. 


284 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGB. 


the clenched hands, and the tmnatural posture of the stiffened limbs— 
often hideously aping the positions of life — testify with a painful dis- 
tinctness, even the most callous do not easily forget, to the terrific 
suffering Nature has endured in the struggle that has ranked the 
animated clay with the insensate dust whence it originally sprang. 

It was at any rate not the opinion of the fisherman who, under 
Josh’s guidance, succeeded in recovering from the deep the bodies of 
Edward Blythe and Ralph Lee, that these men had died a pleasant 
and agreeable death. The hand of each clutched the collar of the 
other with a close and relentless grip whose tightness the King of 
Terrors himself had been unable to relax. Lee in addition, as Oliver 
surmised, had been frightfully bruised by the pointed rocks below 
the surface at the spot where the brothers-in-law fell. It was almost 
impossible to trace in those mangled and disfigured features a sign 
of the handsome, stately countenance so well known to those who 
drew his body from the wave. To Blythe fortune had been kinder. 
Those who loved and mourned the farmer could weep upon the face 
of their dead without terror and without disgust. 

The circumstances under which the catastrophe had occurred of 
course called for the exercise of that beautiful national arrangement 
by help of which, after the steed is stolen, we so carefully bolt and 
lock the stable door. Two men having perished without the legal- 
ized assistance of the authorized practitioner to help them on their 
way, the law indignantly stepped in to inquire how they came to 
perpetrate so independent an act. In other words, there was an 
inquest. 

The scene of the accident Ijdng close to Paston, it was to the 
“Wellington’s Head,” in that sleepy little village, the bodies were 
conveyed, and that respectable hostelry was also appointed as the 
place of inquiry. The coroner for the district was a medical man, no 
other in fact than that identical short-legged and short-tempered 
Dr. Polt, whose acduaintance we made when he was called in to 
Annis upon the occasion of her great disaster. The jury empanneled 
consisted of Paston worthies, not one of whom possessed the capa- 
city, letting alone the wicked intention, of setting the Thames on 
fire. As one of the chief inhabitants. Old Josh was summoned upon 
the jury, and was upon the point of being elected foreman, when the 
coroner, learning in due time that the intended dignitary happened 
also to be the principal witness, ordered the Oracle out of the box 


ALBANY STARirS REVENGE. 


285 


with much indignation. Martin Blake, the landlord of the “Well- 
ington’s head,” was installed in the post of honor in his stead. 

The excitement occasioned in humdrum Paston by so tremendous 
an occurrence as an inquest into.the cause of the violent deaths of 
two local magnates— each a power in his way— may, to use a phrase 
that has perhaps been met with elsewhere, be more easily imagined 
than described. Nothing at all approaching the event in interest 
had ever been known within the Pastonian memory. Ever^'body 
bjing also fully cognizant of the long-standing quarrel between the 
deceased men, rumors of the most extraordinary nature were in 
circulation. It is needless to retail these efforts of imagination here. 
Like its enterprise, the fancy of the Pastonian public was not strong ; 
and its wildest flights, though childishly incongruous and absurd* 
never attained the ghastly horror of the actual facts. It is well that 
these should not have been revealed until now, when none can be 
hurt by their disclosure. 

The case was “watched,” to use the legal slang, upon the part 
of both the deceased by their respective solicitors, as to whom a 
brief digression must be allowed. 

When it transpired that an inquest must be held, the legal ad- 
viser of the Blythe family, Mr. Jacob Moule, was summoned from 
Lynn to the Grange, Will being still confined to bed by his wound. 
An elderly, feeble-witted personage, well enough for ordinary mat- 
ters, but hopelessly at sea upon emergencies, Mr. Moule acknowl- 
edged his inability to unravel the mysterious threads of the web that 
had dragged the dead men to their doom. After an interview with 
Guenever — Mrs. Lee having completely lost her head, and l3dng 
night and da3^ a weeping, shiftless bundle of crape prostrate before 
the crucifix in the oratory — it was decided Old Josh should post off 
to town, to bring down Ralph’s solicitor, a fashionable limb of the 
law with chambers in the Temple and a country-seat at Barnes. 
Reaching town, the Oracle learned to his dismay that Mr. Crosth- 
waite had been sent for by a crotchet3" rich old maid, to draw up 
the tenth will she had executed since the spring. The period of his 
return was uncertain, and time pressed. Acting therefore upon his 
own responsibility. Josh engaged the services of Mr. Wilkins Baird, 
a celebrated thieves’ attorney, to represent the interests of the Lccs. 

Upon the road to Paston Mr. Baird examined the Oracle as to 
the facts of the case. Mindful of Blande’s injunction to support the 


286 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


reputations of the dead, for the sake of those who survived, Josh 
tried his ’prentice hand at suppressing the facts damaging to tbc 
fame of Ralph Lee. His first few sentences convinced the acme 
practitioner something was being kept back, and half-a-dozen ques- 
tions speedily involved the veteran in a maze of inextricable contra- 
diction. 

“You’ll find it your best plan to be frank and open, my man,” 
observed Mr. Baird, blandly. “ I must have the entire and precise 
truth, and shall do my best for the interests of the family. If you 
decline to trust me, be good enough to tell the post-boy to drive 
back to town.” 

Josh was as helpless in the hands of the legal athlete as Tom 
Thumb — excuse the anachronism — would have been in the grasp of 
Samson. He made a clean breast of all be knew upon the events of 
the fatal day. Arriving at Lynn, a consultation was held between 
the solicitors, and a certain line of procedure decided upon. 

Yet one word about the worthy coroner before we start. It was 
a rare thing tor Dr. Polt to be called upon in his judicial capacit}', 
and when he was, he always felt it an infliction. Entirely innocent 
of legal knowledge, yet painfully aware that it would be infra dig. 
to let his ignorance be seen, his chief resource was to insist with 
vehemence upon minor points and questions where his common 
sense told him little harm could follow, and to sip his law from the 
Pierian spring bubbling from the lips of any authorized practitioner 
engaged in the case. By adopting this course, he sometimes fell 
into the mistake of taking random shots at facts and jumping to 
conclusions that turned out unluckily. A shrug of the shoulders, or 
a pitying smile from an attorney, usually then brought the coroner 
to his senses. 

The unmeaning and painful farce of viewing the bodies having 
been concluded, the jury were sworn, and the proceedings began. 
Testimony was adduced that the last occasion upon which Blythe 
and Lee were seen alive was at the little inn upon the shore. The 
landlord of the house, his wife and son, swore to a stormy interview 
having taken place, which ended upon the appearance of Rich. 

Cross-examination by Mr. Baird succeeded in throwing doubts 
upon the facts of the interview having been stormy. The landlord 
was badgered by this ingenious advocate for a definition of what he 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


287 


meant by “stormy,” and was atlast driven to declare he thought the 
gents was a-quarreling cause they spoke loudish. 

Solicitor. — Oh, indeed. Then if you talk to a deaf man, and 
speak “loudish ” to make yourself heard, you would be quarreling. 
Is that what you mean? — No, o’ course not. 

Sol. — 0’ course not, eh ! Well, what is it you do mean ? Do you 
know yourself? — To be sure Ido. 

Sol. — Well, let the Court know too. Don’t be churlish, man, and 
keep all your store of wisdom to yourself. Can you explain what 
you mean? — I ’ve telled you oust, and I can’t say no more agin. 

Sol. (politely.) — Then we won’t trouble you any further. Stand 
down. 

The departure first of Lee, then of Blythe shortly afterwards, 
Lee’s return, his agitated inquiries after his brother-in-law, and his 
final hasty pursuit in the track of the latter were all deposed to, 
chronicled, and duly noted by the coroner to assist him in his charge. 
The next witness was Joshua Rich. 

Josh deposed that, happening to be near the inn late in the after- 
noon, his attention was caught by loud voices that seemed familiar. 
Entering, he found the two deceased gentlemen in “a kind of discus 
sion.” As a humble friend of both parties, he endeavored to mediate, 
and not without success. 

Mr. Baird. — Are you prepared to swear, witness, that the gentle- 
men parted upon better terms than when you entered ? 

Josh, (emphatically.) — I am. 

Sol. — Very good. Now remember, you are on your oath. Did 
they part upon decidedly better terms ? 

Josh. — Very much better. 

Sol. — So much so as to induce you to believe a reconciliation of 
the long-standing disagreement between them might very possibly 
ensue ? 

Josh. — That was my impression. 

Sol. (to the Coroner.) — I beg to request your worship’s particular 
attention to this witness’s evidence, as it strongly supports the 
theory we shall endeavor to set up. 

Cor. — Yes, yes, I have it upon my notes. 

Cautious Josh, you will have perceived, said notone word about 
the deadly struggle between the deceased, or about the presence of a 
certain double-edged knife in the affray. Allusion to these particulars 


288 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


would have revealed animus on the part of Lee, an impression to be 
avoided at all hazards. 

Thus lar, the inquiry had proceeded as favorably as the acute 
Mr. Wilkins Baird could have desired, but at this point his most im- 
portant witness made an unlucky slip. Transcendent talent is best 
displayed upon emergencies. Justice to the reputation of a man so 
eminent in his peculiar walk of life as the celebrated thieves’ attorney 
demands that his skill in surmounting unexpected difficulty should 
be shown. The examination proceeded. 

Baird. — Now, witness, attend to me. After Captain Lee left the 
inn, Mr. Blythe remained ? — He did. 

Baird. — How long? — Only a few minutes. 

Baird. — Did he state his reason for leaving ? — Somebody passed 
the window, whom he wanted to see. 

Here the coroner interposed: “ Who was that person ? 

Josh gave a deprecating glance at the solicitor, but that discreet 
functionary was deeply engaged in studying the papers before him. 
The coroner — a peppery personage, as we know — repeated his quer- 
tion with some sharpness. 

^‘It was — ahem! — Captain Blande,” returned Josh. 

‘‘Hey, hey! WhaCs that?” exclaimed the coroner. “Captain 
Blanue. Who ’s Captain Blande ?” 

Baird. — A friend of the deceased Captain Lee, your worship, who 
I am instructed was stayingat The Towers when this most distress- 
ing event took place. He is in no way mixed up with the case, I 
believe. 

Coroner. — How do we know that, sir? There is no evidence to 
that effect before the Court. The gentleman must be examined. 
Send for Captain Blande directly. 

Baird. — I am afraid, your worship, that is hardly possible. The 
Captain left for London the day after this occurrence. 

Coroner. —Left for London, did he? That looks suspicious, Mr. 
Baird. That looks like an attempt to evade the ends of ustice, sir. 
This must be inquired into. What is his address ? 

Baird. — (very politely.) — Some where about the Land’s End by this 
time, I should imagine, your worship. The gallant officer, as I am 
informed, being under orders to join his regiment in India, had been 
paying a farewell visit to his friend, Captain Lee. He sailed yester- 
day morning, I believe, or he would have lost his passage, 


A I BANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


289 


Coroner (subsiding). — Oh, oh, indeed. That ’s altogelheranother 
matter. Well, then, of course, Mr. Baird, as you say, this gentleman 
is not a material witneSvS 

Baird (quietly). — And as he has alread\^ sailed for India. 

Coroner. — Quite so. And as he has already sailed for a distant 
country, I shall not insist upon his appearance. Otherwise, Mr, 
Baird, I should most certainly have adjourned the case. 

Baird. — It would have been entirely within your worship’s discre- 
tion to do »o. 

This rock ahead adroitly evaded by the attorney’s ingenious and 
daring fiction, the examination went on. 

Baird. — After Mr. Blythe had quitted the inn, you left also ? — I 

did. 

Baird. — Where did you go ? — Home. 

Baird. — And remained there ? — I did. 

Baird, — When did you first suspect an accident had taken place ? 
— Next morning. I heard Mr. Blythe had not returned the previous 
night to The Grrnge, and I went along the cliff, in the direction Iliad 
seen him take. Finding marks upon the edge, as if some heavy sub- 
stance had slipped over, I procured assistance from Lynn and found 
the bodies. 

Baird. — Greatly to your surprise, no doubt, for I take it you 
searched them solely for Mr. Blythe? — I had seen Captain Lee take 
the road towards The Towers. 

Baird. — Quite so, and you were of course not aware he after- 
wards returned to the inn. Now, witness, I shall a si: 3^ou lasth" 
what, so far as you are aware, were the circumstances of both the 
deceased gentlemen? — Very good, I believe. 

Baird. — You have no reason to suppose either was in pecuniary 
difficulties ? — Certainly not. 

Josh descended from the box. Partly by following the lead of his 
questioner, partly by obe^fing the instincts of his own acuteness, he 
had succeeded in conveying exactly the impression the sagacious Mr. 
Baird desired. The method adopted by that clever practitioner was 
not novel, but proved sufficient to Tart the untrained minds of the 
inexperienced coroner and jury upon the road they were wanted to 
travel. Where the attorne3" wished to convey an idea to the Court 
without committing his witness, he coolly embodied that idea in a 
question to which he was sure of a satisfactory reply. Where he 


290 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


desired to have a statement upon the notes he knew Josh could not 
truthfully have delivered, he made that statement incidentally him- 
self, and before it could be contradicted hastened to divert attention 
bv afresh question upon another point. So that, when theexamina- 
tion was conclnded, the jury found their minds cumbered with a 
variety of impressions — partly derived from the evidence, partly the 
result of the attorney’s insinuations — they were altogether unable to 
sift, and therefore had to accept in the lump. By all which ingenious 
devices, the celebrated Mr. Wilkins Baird smoothed the way for the 
result he intended to achieve. 

That result was now near at hand. The witnesses having been 
examined, it became the duty of the gentlemnn watching the case on 
behalf of the deceased Ralph Lee to address the jury upon the fact^ 
connected with his client’s death, and Mr. Wilkins Baird rose com- 
pletely to the full height of the occasion. 

After complimenting the intelligent jury for the attention they 
had paid to the proceedings, after congratulating himself upon the 
reputation of his client being in such excellent hands as those of the 
discriminating coroner, the attorney proceeded to argue that, not- 
withstanding the m^^sterious circumstances with which the cavSe was 
surrounded, all the evidence clearly pointed in one direction, indubit- 
ably proved one positive and undeniable fact. Captain Lee had 
perished while heroically and unselfishly endevoring to save the life of 
his brother-in-law ! 

Taking this astounding theory as his starting-point, Mr. Baird 
went on to reason it out as systematically as a practised preacher 
deduces moral lessons from his text. Boldly grappling the awkward 
fact that the dead men had been brought to land gripeing each other’s 
throats, he argued that this circumstance was as consistent with a 
determined attempt to save life as to destroy it. By an accident 
impossible to explain, he suggested, the farmer had slipped over the 
cliff. Lee, dashing after him, had been seized by the falling man in 
the agony of despair. The posture that had given rise to so many 
suspicions was at once satisfactorily explained. 

Passing to motive, the attorne 3 ^ shovred that the only reliable 
evidence — that of Rich — was decisive upon the point in favor of h4« 
theory. Both men were in easy circumstances; not the slightest 
ground existed for supposing the death of one could pecuniarily 
benefit the other. The ancient quarrel between them had just been 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


291 


made up. Rich distinctly deposed to the far better feeling existing 
when they parted. Where then was motive? Was it possible to 
imagine that near relations who had just left one another with 
kindlier feelings in their hearts than they had entertained for months 
should be grappling each other’s throats half-an-hour afterwards 
with deadly intent? The bare suppositisn was absurd, prepOvSterous, 
an insult to common sense. 

“But, gentlemen,’’ continued Mr. Baird, turning to the jury, “you 
will no doubt as men of experience, guided by common sense, say, 
and say very justly: Arguments weigh but as thistle-down in the 
balance compared with facts. Here are certain facts. Explain those 
facts satisfactorily, and we will be convinced.’ And I freely admit 
that several very grave facts lie before us. But in the absence of 
evidence — clear, positive, direct evidence — to interpret those facts, 
what are we to do ? Clearly, we can only read them by the light of 
our knowledge of human nature and probabilities, as men of the 
world. We must set up an hypothesis, based upon the facts as 
shown by the evidence, and upon what is known to all of you better 
than to me — the character of both the deceased. 

“Now, so thoroughly do I feel persuaded of the correctness of the 
theory I have ventured to set up, that I can trace, as if I had been 
personally present, the whole course of the events that happened 
upon that disastrous afternoon. I see in my mind’s eye the gallant 
Captain Lee, that embodiment of a manly British sailor, with whose 
bluff, honest appearance you were all of you familiar — I see him 
persuing his homeward path with a mind full of ingenious delight 
at having satisfactorily healed a long rankling wound. It is not for 
us, gentlemen of the jury, to intrude upon the sanctity of private life 
— upon the hearth and the home — to pry into the causes of the 
unhappy misunderstanding that originally severed two men so 
highly estimable in every phase of their existence. It is sufficient for 
us to feel convinced, from the exemplary and distinguished characters 
of both the deceased, that whatever estrangement had arisen must 
have originated in a mistake. 

“ Bfe this mistake had now been corrected. The gloomy clouds of 
disunion and aversion had been dissipated and had rolled away, 
chased from the scene by the roseate atmosphere of re-united friend- 
ship and mutual esteem. I can figure to nyself the elation of mind 
felt by this glorious specimen of the genuine British tar as he 


292 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


advances with elastic tread, each footstep bringing him nearer to the 
roof* tree beneath which his wife and daughter are awaiting his 
arrival, but which — alas! — he is destined never to pass under again. 
On a sudden a thought strikes him. ' Something important has yet 
to be arranged between himself and his brother-in-law. Instantly 
and without pause he must return. Although we are entirely at a 
loss to know what this could have been, yet that it was of a highly 
important character is clear even from the evidence of that confused 
and blundering witness, the landlord of the inn. 

“This man has distinctly deposed that Captain Lee came hurriedly 
back, inquired eagerly and with signs of marked agitation which 
road Mr. Blythe had taken, and at once followed upon his track. 

“Now, gentlemen, evidence has been giyenthat it was at that time 
just about five o’clock. Theevening was dull and misty. Your own 
local knowledge will bear me out in the statement that the spot 
where the catastrophe happened is peculiarly liable to fog. Taking 
all these matters into consideration, I hazard little, I imagine, if I 
surmise that the misfortune that has brought us here to-day occurred 
somewhat in this wise. Mr. Blythe, pursuing his road home along 
the cliff and confident in his knowledge of a path he had been 
accustomed to traverse from childhood, misled by the mist, has 
strayed nearer the edge than he is at all aware. On a sudden, he 
hears footsteps close behind him and a voice utters his name. He 
turns, and sees a figure running towards him. He starts, loses his 
balance, slips, and is grasped by the Captain to prevent his fall. He 
fails to recover his equilibrium, staggers, and finally goes over the 
edge, carrying with him in his agony the man who has vainly 
endeavored to prove his savior. 

“Gentlemen, I have done. The few words it has been my duty to 
address to you contain, I submit, a plain, straightforward, and in- 
telligible account, based upon and borne out by the sworn evidence, 
of what in all human probability passed upon the evening we so 
much deplore. My friend by my side will tell you that he entirely 
coincides with the view I have ventured to suggest. Both he and I, 
representing the famdies of the deceased, feel that we may fairly ask 
you to endorse that view. We call upon you to disregard all idle 
and absurd rumors — all vague and indefinite conjectures unsupported 
by evidence, and request at your hands, as experienced men of the 
world and British citizc'ns, a verdict which while it goes with the 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


293 


faets that have been laid before you, at the same time fully, amply, 
and entirely vindicates from every shadow of blame the memories of 
those who had passed away. 

“And, gentlemen, permit me finally to point out to you that this 
is a matter of no slight importance. Reputation, it must never be 
forgotten, is the only chattel a man can hold beyond the grave. The 
Roman poet, in a passage with which you are all no doubt familiar, 
describes it as carved upon marble and more durable than brass. A 
fair reputation is dearer and of greater value to an honorable man, 
and to those he leaves behind him, than are a thousand lives. This 
certificate, gentlemen — not as a boon, but as an act of justice — the 
survivors of Ralph Lee and Edward Blythe now ask you to confer.” 

Mr. Moule having seconded his learned friend’s eloquence in a 
few halting phrases, the coroner summed up in the approved regula- 
tion style. The jury were to be guided by the evidence in the verdict 
they should deliver. If they thought any person not before the Court 
were concerned in the deaths of the deceased gentlemen, they should 
bring in a verdict accordingly ; if they did n’t, then they should n’t. 
It was said that certain rumors were current, but he had n’t heard 
them, and they were not upon his notes. Rumors were not evidence. 
One of the learned gentlemen who watched the case for the families 
of the decease had put forward a theory as to the manner in which 
the lamentable event had happened. Very likely it might be correct, 
but also equally likely not. Nobody knew, and it seemed nobody 
could tell. The jury would use their discretion, and he should be 
happy to record their verdict. 

A very brief consulation among the jurors sufficed. All were of 
one mind even before the learned coroner afforded them the great 
assistance of his lucid charge. The verdict was: “Accidental 
death.” 

To which, by unanimous request of the jury, the foreman desired 
to append the following rider : 

“We, the undersigned, cannot separate without expressing our profound and 
lasting admiration for the heroic efforts of the deceased Captain Ralph 
Lee to save the life of his brother-in-law, Mr. Edward Blythe. We 
consider the premature death of Captain Lee a most serious misfortune 
to the world and to humanity, to Paston and to Lynn, and we beg 
to recommend a subscription for the erection of a monument to perpet- 
uate his glorious deeds and noble-hearted memory.” 


294 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


This effusive document was signed by the coroner, all the jury, 
both the attorneys — one at least with his tongue in his cheek — the 
witnesses, and the entire audience. The notion of a subscription to 
Ralph Lee’s “noble-hearted memory,” originated in the rider of the 
jury, also died there. It is not on record that one sixpence for the 
purpose was ever collected. 

The object of the celebrated Mr. Wilkins Baird’s eloquence was, 
however, achieved. Robber, pirate, and buccaneer, as he had been — 
murderer in intent, if not in reality, as he was when called to his 
account — Ralph Lee at least enjoyed the reputation after death, 
among those who never knew his real history, of having been a jov- 
ial, kind-hearted, brave, and honest sailor, who perished while 
trying to save another. 

This matter affords an insight, not often gained, into the cheap 
rate at which fame may occasionally be bought. Ralph Lee went 
down to his grave in the odor of sanctity, through the judicious 
use of a clever gentleman’s oily tongue, set in motion by the follow- 
ing prospect : 

» 

“To professional attendance at inquest upon deceased, Captain Lee, with 
traveling expenses, consultations, &c., &c., &c., - - - - 50 gs. 


CHAPTER XLV. 

INHERITANCE. 

“ It’s most unfortunate. A harder blow could scarcely have been 
struck. This man’s death frustrates all my plans, baffles in a second 
the schemes and labors of a life.” 

The speaker was Albany Stark. Leaning moodily back in his 
chair, he gazed at Oliver with an intensity of savage meaning the 
latter was completely at a loss to fathom. 

“Yet why?” he ventured to rejoin after an embarrassed pause. 
“You ’ve gained your point. Gained it without a struggle or a step, 
without danger, without exertion — solely by your adversary’s un- 
skillful play. Unless you had further aims in view than those I have 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


295 


been permitted to know, your victory is crushing and complete. 
What would you more ? ” • 

“He asks what would I more?” repeated Stark in a dull, hollow 
tone, while the fire of unsatisfied vengeance burned with a lurid 
radiance in his sunken eye. “Everything, boy — all. Are you so dull 
as not to see upon whom has fallen the defeat, to whom has come 
the victory ? Lee dead, his toils are ended ; hope and fear are hence- 
forth alike to him. If he retains his consciousness of earthly things 
at all, he looks down calmly, with a bitter and sardonic grin, and 
mocks my impotence. Well indeed he may! I survive; he is safe 
and beyond my power. The game is lost — gone, forfeited past 
recall.” 

“ Pm quite unable to understand,” said Oliver, thoroughly sur- 
prised. “It seems to me now you have not only won the day but 
absolutely a far greater stake than you set out to attain. For what 
have we been playing all these weeks ? Why this expenditure of 
money, trouble, time, if not to gain a hold on Lee, and drive him to 
despair? It is done. You have amply succeeded. In place of ac- 
quiring a power over him he could perhaps at any time shake off, 
you have made him surrender his dearest possession, — you have got 
his life. Greater success I cannot possibly conceive. 

“Did I suppose you could, most sapient jackal?” sneered Stark. 
“ When did you ever know the tool informed of the intentions of the 
guiding hand? Remember your position. You have only to receive 
instructions, to carry them out implicitly and to the letter, to report 
the result. You have done the first and the third , I doubt your per- 
formance of the second. How can you justify your neglect ? ” 

His harsh and severe tone brought a flush of anger to the young 
man’s cheek. He clenched his teeth hard, to keep back an indignant 
reply Stark, ever observant, noted the movement, but answered it 
simply with a smile of conscious power and disdain. 

“I repeat,” he resumed, I have reason to believe this wretched 
failure is in the main ascribable to you. For whether your perspi- 
cacity sees the fact or not, a failure it is, and that most signal. 
Listen to so much as I choose to tell you, and then deliver your 
judgment. 

“This man I hated with a strength of hatred such puny souls as 
yours can never aspire to conceive. This man, even before you were 
born, did me the greatest wrong one man of vehement passions can 


29G 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


do another. Upon this man I swore to be revenged. Not in the 
paltry sense such (5i*eatnres as 3 ^ou construe revenge — in merely crush- 
ing out his wretched life — but b^^ making that life to him a burden 
and a sorrow, by distilling drop by drop into his cup such venom as 
should poison the .springs of his existence at their source, by holding 
over his head the threat of disgrace, the fear of punishment, the 
dread of utter destitution, poverty, and ruin. I do not think I 
should ever have crushed him, for it would have been such exquisite 
delight to keep the sword always suspended above his head by a 
hair. 

“There was little prospect, then when I was wronged, that this 
power would ever be mine. But I am ver^^ patient when I please, 
and I can wait. I took the measure of my enemy, and time has 
shown I judged him rightly. I guessed that the unprincipled selfish- 
ness his early sin displayed would develop, as he grew older, into 
worse and more criminal vices — attainable by law — and that then 
my time would some day come. And I was right. 

“As years rolled on I learned from the careful watch I kept upon 
the object of my hate, that he was prosperous and at ease; that he 
was esteemed and liked ; that he was respected, and had made for 
himself both name and fortune. Do you imagine I was galled to 
hear of his success? Not I, man. I rejoiced, knowing that the 
greater the height to which he climbed, the deeper and more ignomin- 
ious must be his ultimate fall. But the time had not yet come, and 
still I waited, for, as I told you, I can be very patient. 

“ Lee returned to England, and I resolved to act. Selecting you — 
the ablest of my many tools— to be the instrument of bringing my 
vengeance within reach, I sent you to the spot where my en«iyhad 
set himself down to enjoy his wealth, where he intended to pass the 
remainder of his days in comfort and repose. I had a reason for 
choosing you for this purpose, as I always have for every order that 
I give. Some day perhaps — not now — I may tell you what that 
reason was. 

“Your first proceedings were judicious and wise. You applied 
yourself to discovering the links still wanting in the chain of evi- 
dence connecting Lee with his early crime, and you found what you 
sought. But your perspicacity went further. By persevering and 
patient inquiry 3 ^ou hit upon a gap in his life unaccounted for — a gap 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


297 


all my researches had been unable to fill up — and penetration or 
good fortune led you to a surmise which has turned out fact. 

“Up to this point you had performed 3^our duty well. Herefailure 
began. Concealing from me all that you had learned from Riggs, 
you tried to make terms on your own account with Lee. — Den^Mtnot; 
I have proofs even your hardihood cannot gainsay. — What those 
terms were, I tell you frankly I know not, although I surmise. The 
result of your departure from my instructions is that my enemy has 
escaped. Upon the point of stretching forth my hand to seize the 
fruits of all these years of patient waiting, I find the object I desire 
eludes my grasp. And it is 3^ou — you, the felon whom I have saved 
from bondage worse than death — the serf body and soul as fully 
mine as ever negro chattel, purchased in the land where men buy 
slaves— you, whom a breath from my mouth would consign to life- 
long infamy and herding with th * vilest miscreants — you, who have 
dared to thwart a purpose upon which you knew your master’s 
heart was set. 

“Now, Oliver Blande, listen to me. At this moment you are upon 
your trial, before as cool and merciless a judge as ever sat upon the 
bench. 1 am willing to hear all you can allege in your defence, to 
let it weigh for as much as I consider it worth against the evidence 
in my possession of your intended treachery. If, upon calm and dis- 
passionate consideration, T find you guilty merely of an error of 
judgment, great as is my disappointment, I will pardon your mis- 
take. If, on the other hand, I see cause to believe you have crossed 
my plans for some wretched object of gain or profit to yourself, not 
all the powers on earth shall save you. One thing I warn you of. 
Adhere to the truth. The slightest deviation from clear and absolute 
fact — and remember, I know more than you suspect — and you are 
lost. Now speak.” 

Oliver felt himself upon the horns of a terrible dilemma. If he im- 
plicitly obe\^ed the injunctions he had just received, and told the 
plain unvarnished truth of his overtures to Lee, he knew Stark’s 
judgment before it was delivered. If he concealed a part of the 
reality, and made out for himself the best case that he could, he ran 
the risk of controverting evidence his employer might have in his 
hands. Yet upon this latter course, as involving least danger — as 
in fact the only line of conduct offering even a small chance of escape 
—he felt compelled to resolve. Essentially a shifty nature and not 


298 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


brave at heart, knowing only too well the damning proofs of for- 
mer guilt Stark held in his possession, it was not in his character to 
venture upon boldly bidding his tormentor defiance, and daring him 
to do his worst. 

There are men, even among the many whom folly or self-indul- 
gence has betrayed into crime, who would have taken this course 
sooner than consent to live perpetually beneath the rod. But they 
are cast in a sterner mould than this weak victim of his own vices, 
Besides, Oliver hoped to gain emancipation by a safer road. 

In that sense he spoke. He retraced all the steps we have watched 
him take from the hour he learned Lee’s identity with Richard 
Blackstock. Believing it would not be safe to suppress all mention 
of his attempted negotiation with Lee, he admitted the fact of that 
memorable interview but sturdily denied that he had done more 
than dimly hint to the ex-buccaneer that the facts of his piratical 
career were known. Upon Riggs having been suborned to attempt 
his life, Oliver dwelt strongly, pointing out that, though the first 
ambuscade had failed, Lee’s desperate and determined character 
placed him in perpetual danger. This plea clearly stood him 
in good stead with his judge, even Stark’s self-command not per- 
mitting him to suppress an affirmatory nod when it was urged. 

These quicksands tripped across with nimble foot, the pleader 
approached a morass, so treacherous and of such indefinite extent, 
that he knew not the moment when it might not give way beneath 
his tread, and plunge him headlong into irretrievable ruin. He had 
to detail the means by which he decoyed Blythe to an interview at 
the sea-shore inn, to describe how he artfully allowed the farmer to 
guess, rather than plainly told, Lee’s complicity in Blackstock’s 
deeds. 

Sophistry, glibness of tongue, and assurance almost unparalleled, 
however, came to his assistance, and pulled him safely through. 
Oliver was able to ascribe the struggle between the brothers-in-law, 
its renewal upon the cliff, and its fatal close to the vehemence of 
Blythe’s desire for vengeance at all hazards upon the destroyer of 
his early friend. It is possible indeed — for such men are wonderful 
self-deceivers — that he had succeeded in persuading himself he was in 
reality guitless of all that had occurred, and Edward’s indomitable 
violence alone to blame. If he had, the veil beneath which he sought 
to disguise his share in the catasrophe was speedil^^ rent from before 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


299 


his gaze by keen-sighted and relentless Stark. For this was the 
cross-examination that ensned. 

“You saw them fall over the cliff and made no effort to save them? 
— I was not near enough.” 

“Helped them a little, perhaps, with an accidental push, eh ? — No, 
on my honor,” 

“ We won’t allude to abstractions, please* I want facts. Did you 
or did you not help them on their road ? — No ’ ” (emphatically). 

“Don’t be so fierce,” sneered Stark, with a sardonic laugh. “The 
distinction between actually hurling these men to their death, and 
hounding them on to destroy each other, is curiously small. Only 
so imaginative an intellect as yours, my friend, can see the difference. 
Morally, the result — or, if you like, the gudt — is precisely the same; 
legally, you may be innocent, but then law and morals are luckily 
two different things. One question more. What was your .motive 
in bringing the deceased into collision ? Mind : I must have truth. ’ 

“Frankly, then, I thought it likely Lee would be led on by his 
furious temper to do Blythe a mischief. In that case he would have 
had to keep out of the way, at least for a time; but I should have 
been safe.” 

“And where would have been my vengeance, eh? Selfish regard 
for your own security, endangered — as I still believe although you 
deny it — solely by your own intriguing, lost sight of my interests 
altogether. You see I spoke correctly when I said it was to you, and 
you alone, the failure of my schemes is due.” 

Oliver was silent. He had made out the best case for himself 
that he could , and had nothing more to urge in his defence. 
Strangely enough, Stark’s manner had entirely changed since the 
last disclosures. Gloomy and bitter though he had been at first, he 
was now evidently not by any means displeased. Some aspect of 
the case had presented itself to him at which he seemed positively 
rejoiced. When he spoke again, it was altogether in a different tone 
to that he had originally employed. But the expression in his eye 
was far more enigmatical to Oliver. Before, he had conceived it to 
exhibit the restless savagery of baffled rancour , now, to his bewilder- 
ment it displayed the full satiety of over-gratified revenge. In this 
light at any rate he read his employer’s face, and years of study of 
that dark and gloomy volume had enabled him to decipher it with 
greater accuracy than any other living soul. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


cOO 

Oliver’s misgiving was increased by the almost cheerful tone of 
Stark’s voiee when he spoke again. 

“Come, Blande,” he said, “no matter now. We must take things 
as they are, seeing no pains of ours will change the past. You'll 
admit though, 1 presume, that this man’s fate — Lee’s I mean — lies at 
your door? ” 

There was a latent malice in his look as he put the question that 
made Oliver trembled with incomprehensible fear. 

“ His own violenee caused his death,’’ he answered. “I never laid 
a hand upon him. Even when he struek me, I did n’t retaliate.” 

“Ha, ha! No, no; of eourse not. Your meek and Christian spirit 
turned the other eheek to the smiter. You would n’t dream of re- 
turning the blow, but you let the offender roll over the eliff without 
putting out a hand to save him. Why, you’re a perfect Jesuit in 
casuivStry. Ha, ha ! Glorious, glorious ! — Well, well. Business first 
and pleasure afterwards. Have you more to report ? ” 

“That same evening,” returned Oliver, slowly, as if he had hardly 
made up his mind to diselose what he now went on to tell, “I re- 
solved to examine the seaman’s chest in Lee’s library 1 wrote to you 
before that I had failed in opening.” 

“Aha !” ejaeulated Stark, turning his face towards the speaker 
with a look of eager interest. “ The chest of whieh I sent you a de- 
scription and a model. Well ? ” 

“ The same. Waiting till the house was quiet, I let in Billy, whom 
I had previously told to be in waiting. With his help, and acting 
upon your instructions, I succeeded in raising the lid.” 

“Yes, yes. And you found ? ” 

“A mass of papers, unimportant mostly, so far as I could see from 
a eursory inspection, and of little value. Extracts from ships’ logs, 
old charter-parties, maps, notes of soundings, and the like ; a couple 
of chronometers, a compass, and a case of mathematical instruments. 
But in a drawer at the side I discovered this, whieh, as you may see, 
is of sufficient importance. Whether it can be turned to account is 
for you to decide.” 

He drew a thick, folded parchment, neatly tied with red tape, 
from his pocket, and handed it to Stark, keenly watching the 
expression of the swarthy face as the dark eyes lit up with a sudden 
glow. 

Stark grasped the parchment eagerh^ and read aloud the endorse- 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE, 


301 


merit, engrossed in the usual crabbed hand affected by men of the 
law. 

Last Will and Testament of Ralph Lee, Esq,, Master Mariner late 
of Rockhills, Jamaica, now of The Towers Lynn Norfolk, both in 
the Dominions of His Britannic Majesty, 

Dated this 15th day of June, 1837. 
Upon a separate paper pinned to^the parchment, was the sentence, 
in Lee’s bold, straggling writing: “ ‘ Crosthwaite has a copy. 

Ralph Lee.’” 

Iv/’ithout a word Stark unfolded the parchment, and ran his 
practised eye over the contents. A few moments put him in posses- 
sion of all the essential points that it contained. 

“You know the purport?” he asked curtly, turning a searching 
look upon Blande. 

“Its general tenor, yes; but the legal verbiage makes much of it 
Greek to me.” 

Had Stark known that at the bottom of that same pocket, out of 
which Oliver had produced the Will, there reposed at this very 
moment an accurate copy of the document which had cost his 
subordinate the greater part of the night to execute, he would have 
been better able to appreciate the sincerity of this reply. 

“ The chief point is of course whether you can make use of it.” con- 
tinued Oliver, with a fair assumption of indifference. “ Provided you 
can, I shall ask you one favor in return.” 

How his heart beat as he spoke the words that might prove the 
passport to life-long liberty from the disgraceful thraldom in which 
he was immured! But he dared not show the importance he 
attached to his request. His greatest chance lay in apparently 
hardly caring whether it were granted or not. 

“Assume that I find it available, what do you wish to ask ? ” 
“That you would give me up certain receipts bearing sombody 
else’s name in my handwriting. You known what I mean. I have 
often asked you before.” 

“And I have replied that I would only give them to you when 3^011 
had rendered me some great spontaneous service — some service ofe: - 
traordinary value — a service you were not bound by your instriu, 
tions to pay.” 

“ Is not this such ? ” 


302 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


“It may be. I cannot yet tell, until I have had further time to 
consider. Should it prove so, I will not depart from my promise. 
Then you shall have the papers, and with them whatever liberty 
their possession implies. Go now, I must think this matter over. 
Let me see you to-morrow.” 

The door had hardly closed behind Oliver before Stark sprang from 
his chair in uncontrollable exciteipent, and began to pace the floor. 
Man of iron as he was, he had grown nervous of late, and could not 
hide his feelings so well as of old. It was an ancient habit of his — 
this tigerish restlessness — and was especially strong when he was 
violently moved. At times he approached the table, snatched up the 
Will, hastily perused a portion, then cast it down, and resumed his 
march. Gradually, as a definite plan began to evolve itself within 
his active brain out of the chaos of crurle and half-formed schemes, 
his thoughts strayed to his lips in exclamations, that after a time 
broke into definite words. 

“Were I a weak or superstitious fool,” you might have heard him 
mutter as he strode along, “ I might be startled at the prospect 
opening to my view. It is too favorable. I might suppose it hardly 
possible Fate could play so opportunely into an3^ man’s hand. I 
might shrink from following up the course so plainly marked. I 
might stop short at the point I have reached, and thus lose all the 
ecstasy still in store. 

“ But I am neither weak, nor superstitious, nor a fool. I grasp the 
weapon tendered me, uncaring whose the hand whence I receive it, 
and drive it slowly, cautiously — so as not to lose a quiver of the 
shuddering fibre — into the victim’s flesh. Then, when thedartis too 
firmly fixed to be removed, I snatch the veil from his eyes and gloat 
upon his agonies. 

“For I know it — this craven, dastard spirit — that I have studied 
all these years until its slightest workings are plain to me almost 
before they are felt by its possessor. When I tell him what he has 
done, and how I led him on and tempted him until he fell ; when I 
showed him that after having driven Lee to death, he has despoiled 
the widow and the fatherless, I wring him with torture such as- man 
has never yet conceived. A stronger soul would seek oblivion in 
death ; he is a coward ; he will live. 

“Years of plotting and thought could not have placed a better 
opportunity inmy hand. Had it beeninmy powerto havearranged 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


303 


my puppets at will, as a man composes a problem in chess, I could 
not have prepared a more crushing blow than Fortune enables meto 
deal. For he has laid claim to a conscience, of late, this fellow, and, 
strangely enough in one otherwise acute, is led astray by the bug- 
bear, too. He likes to be sensitive and tender-hearted' when the whim 
seizes him, to plead for a pigeon ere he strips him of his last feather, 
thinking, I suppose, to sneak an item or two in his own favor on to 
the credit side of Providence’s ledger. If there is one reptile I 
abominate more than another in a world where all are despicable, it 
is a timid, self-deceiving hypocrite. 

“ To think that luck, even in the act of depriving me of the man I 
had marked down, should have given me the one whom of all others 
I should have selected, to be his heir. Yes, Oliver, you shall be Ralph 
Lee’s fortunate legatee. You have made a fair beginning, and 
promise to be a worthy follower in his footsteps. Upon more fitting 
shoulders the mantle could not have fallen. You shall enjoy greater 
privileges than the majority of heirs. You shall inherit your predeces- 
•or’s crimes, added to your own remorse, his punishment, and my 
revenge.’* 


CHAPTER XLVI. 


A VIVID DREAM. 

Immediately after the inquest upon Edward Blythe and Ralph 
Lee the bodies of the two men were transported to their respective 
homes, for interment by their friends. The reception accorded at 
either house to the victims of an untimely death was characteristic 
of the station each had held in the hearts of those he left behind. 

The plain oaken coffin containing Edward’s remains, being 
carried into the common sitting-room at the Grange, formed the 
centre throughoutthe day ofa continuous stream of visitors — laborers 
from the adjoining farms and villagers from Paston— anxious to 
take a farewell look at the master and the neighbor all had known 


304 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


and liked so well. The English laborer is not gushing, yet few turned 
away from gazing on those pale and peaceful features without a 
tear. Will kept open house, and greeted every sympathizing caller — 
rich or poor — with the same thanks, the same hearty welcome, the 
same kindly shake of the hand. Annis was not visible. The shock 
of the catastrophe had struck a deep blow at her always fragile 
health. Dr. Polt was in frequent attendance, and faithful Alice 
would not quit the mourner’s side. 

The battered figure that had been the form of proud and arrogant 
Ralph Lee lay in state in the library at TheTowers, encased in costly 
coffins of mahogany and lead. But, notwithstanding the testimony 
pf the enlightened Paston twelve to the dead man’s heroism, not a 
soul crossed the threshold of his gorgeous house to condole with his 
widow and his child. The negro Jake, a great, soft-hearted, tender 
creature, blubbered a few vociferous lamentations when his massa’s 
disfigured body was brought home, but his violent grief was soon 
exhausted. Mrs. Lee, like Annis, was completely prostrated; and 
Guenever, to her own great astonishment and regret, after the first 
shock of the event had subsided, felt rather a sensation of freedom 
and relief. She took herself severely to task for this hardness of 
heart, but the feeling remained, and would not be driven away. 

The fact was, Ralph Lee had never been a kind master, a loving 
husband, or a tender father. Softness was not in his nature, and 
that he was not a man likeh to put constraint Upon himself we 
know. His terrific outbursts of temper had made him feared. He 
ruled his household with an iron rod, and when the incubus that 
weighed upon it was on a suddeu removed, all seemed to breathe 
more easily. Ah, my friend, when your time comes, and mine, are we 
sure that those who cover our faces will not say in their hearts — 
dulce decorum would keep them from shouting it aloud — “Thank 
heaven! He ’s goneat last.’’ The wish to be regretted after death 
is no doubt selfish at bottom, and altogether useless, but is so natural 
a sentiment that I question whether man or woman ever left the 
world without feeling it. 

Yes, there lay all that now was left of Ralph Lee — alone, 
unwatched, uncared for, unregretted— awaiting the time when it 
should be lifted into a pompous hearse crowned with black nodding 
plumes, and be driven solemnly' and slowly away to the brick vault 
whcie “our dear brother departed ” was to abide until the Judgment. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


305 


If he had ever bestowed a thought upon the fate of his body after 
death— I dare not talk about the destiny of His soul — he certainly 
never pictured to himself so ghastly and so dreary a mockery as this. 
But I do not believe he ever thought of death. If he did, it just 
glanced through his mind as a dim, far-off posvsibility, in the way the 
idea will sometimes obtrude itself unwelcomely upon the thoughts 
of similar very worldly, selfish, passionate men, and was 
immediately dismissed, with a sort of impatient wonder how 
it ever entered his mind. There, however, his body lay, closed 
up in the massive coffins, unwatched and solitary, as I have 
said, and to all appearance destined to remain unmixed up any 
more with human passions until it was brought forth to play its 
final part in the grim procession of the morrow. 

For the funeral of the wealthy Captain Lee of The Towers, Ljmn, 
a country gentleman, a magistrate, and a possesson of estates, was 
a species of public event affecting the county credit. It was all very 
well for an insignificant farming person like Edward Blythe — little 
above the rank of a common laborer — to be huddled underground in 
the ordinary sort of way, just as you might bury a publican or any 
other vulgar sinner; but the commonplace proceedings that were 
good enough for him would never do for the opulent Captain Lee. 
Property has its duties, as well as its privileges and its rights. 
Blythe could of course be buried by a country undertaker in the 
simple country mode. Captain Lee’s interment was ceremonial, 
and had tu be “performed.” 

Let us be just, and trace the ostentation to its right source. 

In her ignorance of the world, Guenever had left the care of al 
the necessary arrangements t Josh, and the veteran had in his turn 
applied for advice to the celebrated Mr. Wilkins Baird. That acute 
practitioner, with characteristic keenness of scent, instantly perceived 
an opportunity for cheap advertisement. A grand funeral would be 
reported at length by the local press, the circumstances of the 
inquest would be re-produced, and theexertions of “ that well-known 
professional gentleman” again be thrust before the public eye. It 
was his undoubted opini m, Josh learnt, that a man of Captain Lee’s 
position and eminence ; cut off by a most deplorable disaster in the 
flower of his day; sacrificed, one might even say, to the dictates of 
his own humane and benevolent heart, ought most unquestionably to 


306 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


receive the most striking posthumous honors it was in the power of 
the natictn to afforrl. 

“In faet, sir,” added Mr. Baird, “I think it’s a case for a public 
funeral and a monument in Westminster Abbey. Unluckily it ’s too 
late for the first, but Government should be memorialised about th^ 
monument. I ’ll bear it in mind. As to the present business, Panting 
is 3"Our man — the great Panting. You know whereto find him, of 
course ? No ? God bless my soul, never heard of the great Panting! 
Dear, Dear! What a tremendous distance the rural districts are 
behind the age. Here is his address ” 

So Josh applied to the great Panting, and that illustrious man 
came down in person to superintend the due performance of the cere- 
mony. In person — did I sa3^? Eheu ! that the paltry rules of gram- 
mar and logic will not permit more accurate description. To record 
that this eminent individual came down in two persons would be 
more consistent with truth, for the great Panting was great in every 
sense of the term. These events, you will please to remember, 
occurred even before this gifted creature made that grand discovery 
in diet which proved the gospel of all corpulent people, which drove 
so many eminent physicians to the brink of despair, and which 
rejoiced his (the discoverer’s) eyes with a spectacle he had long 
ceased hoping ever again to behold — to-wit: the sight of his own 
legs. 

The great Panting was immensely scandalized to learn that 
hardly any mourners would be likely to attend. He remonstrated 
with Josh as friend of the family, in the most touching and ill-used 
tone. In fact, he all but threatened to withdraw the light of his 
patronage from the proceedings altogether, unless ready-made 
mourners were at once supplied. 

The most extraordinary arrangements, sir, I ever heard of in the 
whole course of my professional experience. No chief mourner, none 
of the family, no influential and eminent friends, no carriages of the 
neighboring gentry, no deputations from public bodies. Why, sir, 
how am I to compose the percession ? How am I to fill the six four- 
horse carriages and the twelve pair-horse mourning coaches now on 
the road, that will arrive to-night ? Really, sir, this is treatment, 
sir — you must excuse me, sir — serious misgivings as to result — reputa- 
tion at stake ” 

The remainder of the great man’s remonstrances rumbled away 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


307 


into indistinct mutterings, so plaintive and woebegone, Josh almost 
thought he was going to cry. 

“Then again, sir, there’s the mourning cloaks, and the scarves, and 
the crape ’at-bands, and the parcels of gent’s black gloves, and the 
dozen cakes — six seed, six plain — speciallj^ ordered from Gunter’s, and 
the six dozen of wine, half port, half sherry, from a heminent import- 
ing ’ouse in the City. What’s to beeomeof them ? Not that I say it 
to boast on, but there’s not a firm in the perfession can do the thing 
in the style we do it. My people ’ve brought down a sufficient 
supply of decent mourning for one ’undred an’ fifty desolate and 
afflicted persons prostrated with sorrow at the sight of the loved 
an’ lost a-bein’ committed to the silent tomb. What’s to become of 
all that furniture, sir?” 

“Well, if it ain’t wanted, you ean take it baek again,” suggested 
matter-of-fact Josh. 

“ Sir? ” inquired Mr. Panting, increduously, advancing his head, as 
if he could n’t believe his ears. 

“You can take baek what is n’t used.” 

“Exeuse me, sir, no. That would be unprofessional, sir, irregular. 
Could n’t possibly be done. The border I receive, sir — will you 
keyindly be pleased to inspect? Thank you, sir — the border I 
received, sir, through Mr. Baird, were for a gentleman’s first-class 
funeral, with all the furniture and appliances of respectable mourn- 
ing. Respeetable, sir. The principles upon whieh our eminent firm 
have been condueted upwards of a century, sir, will not permit us to 
supply artieles on border, and then take ’em baek. The things is 
bordered, sir, and whether used or not,” added the great Panting 
firmly, yet respectfully, “they will be charged.” 

The diseussion ended as you will, of course, have foreseen. The 
great Panting was vietorious at all points. To meet the diffieulty 
as to extempore mourners, the Paston jury and as many others of 
the villagers as could be bribed or bullied into attendance consented 
to fill the vacant eoaehes. Some half-dozen of the neighboring gentry 
stood by their order, and although they had never spoken to Ralph 
Lee in life, sent their carriages to attend his body to the grave. The 
great Panting himself, Dr. Polt, Mr. Crosthwaite (Ralph’s solicitor), 
and the celebrated Mr. Wilkins Baird were among the principal 
mourners, and a number of the Lynn fishermen were moved by the 
bait of 5s and a bottle of rum apieee to walk in procession 


308 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


immediately behind the hearse. By this means a tolerable gathering 
was ensured. 

The great Panting had now concluded all his arrangements for 
the coming event, and had just left The Towers with the majority of 
his staff to spend a pleasant and convivial evening at Lynn. Two 
jolly looking fellows with red noses — mutes by profession, though 
evidently not by practice — remained behind, ostensibly to watch the 
body, but in reality to comfort the Gorgonsin the servant’s hall and 
chat with Jake. Josh also stayed at the house, partly from a vague 
sense of duty, partly from disinclination to evacuate quarters where 
such abundant hospitality prevailed. It was the sense of duty, I 
suppose, that would not allow him to leave the library, where he 
had taken up his post on guard, even when a Gorgon appeared at 
the door — she would not have entered, or looked in on any account 
— to summon the watchers downstairs to supper cind flirtation. 

“Bring my wittles up here, Mary,” said Josh, “ with a jug o’ ale 
and a kittle of hot water, there’s a good girl. You may tell Jake I ’d 
like a bottle o’ rum too, as you go down. Watching’s dull work, 
my dear, and a man wants spirits for such a job — don’t he now?” 

“Ugh ! ” shuddered the damsel. “I can’t think how you can abear 
to stop in such a dreadful place, Mr. Rich. I could n’t, not for a 
year’s wages told right down afore me all in gold. But you sodjers 
is so daring; I never see the like of you. — Ha’ done, now, sergeant! 
They’ll be hearing of you in the kitchen. Fie, for shame! well, I 
never!” 

Away sailed Gorgon Mary, settling her cap and bridling with 
affected indignation at Josh having answered her evident challenge 
by snatching the expected kiss, yet glancing over her shoulder as she 
ran, in token that she was n’t after all offended beyond forgiveness. 

An hour perhaps had passed after this little episode. Josh had 
discussed his supper, and disposed of his ale ; the appearance of the 
rum bottle showed that he had not been unmindful of other claims 
upon his attention. The mutes, who ought properly to have shared 
his watch, had returned from the good cheer of the servants’ hall in 
so very decided a stage of exhilaration that he had packed both off 
to bed. He recollected afterwards, as singular, that although one 
professed great unwillingness to leave the old man to keep his dreary 
vigil alone, the other — the more sober of the two — promptl}^ over- 
ruled his objections. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


309 


But Josh was not the man to feci alarm. His stout heart never 
pulsated one beat the quicker because, peering into the gloom at the 
end of the library, he could perceive the dim outlines of the sable 
drapery that fell in heavy folds over the narrow house wherein all 
that was mortal of the whilom owner of the place reposed. 

“I never feared him living,” said Josh to himself, as his gaze 
strayed into the darkness, “and xl ain’t a bit more frightened now 
he’s dead.” 

Yet the position was sufficiently uncanny to have discomposed 
most men. Not a sound was audible within the house. Not a soul, 
save Josh himself, was awake or stirring. In country places people 
seek bed early, and as the great clock in the hall successively struck 
eleven — twelve — one, two, its hollow, sepulchral boom acquired 
solemnity from the utter stillness of the night. Josh was atno time 
addicted to reading. The only resources for whiling away the dreary 
hours that occurred to him were to stir the fire, keep his pipe con- 
stantly filled, and pay his addresses to the bottle. 

It was probably in great measure owing to his energy in this last 
direction that shortly after he had heard the clock strike two. Josh 
gradually subsided into a heavy sleep. And while he slept, he 
dreamed a dream. 

It seemed to him as if, by some agency he failed to detect, the 
wall of the lib^ry facing which he sat asleep was very slowly and 
noiselessly removed. The sides of the room gradually protracted, 
and lengthened out into indefinite space. Beyond the dim, dark mass 
of sable drapery in the background he saw the glittering radiance of 
the stars, their shining points twinkling from amidst the blue-black 
background of a moonless night. His sense of the incongruity of his 
position, in sitting beside the fire towards the centre of the room, 
facing the wall from which the window had somehow become 
obliterated, while he was yet able to see out into the garden behind 
the house, and the dark, vacant space beyond, became so vivid that 
he seemed in his dream to try to rise, intending to step forward and 
explore the mystery. But he was powerless. Struggle as he might, 
for the first time in his life his limbs refused to obey their master’s 
bidding ; he fell back, inert and helpless, and for a short time lost all 
recollection and consciousness, 

The first thing of which Josh became aware upon recovering from 
the singular paralysis into which he had fallen, was of the sound of 


310 


ALBANY STARRY S RBVENGB, 


voices, whispering softly close beside his ear. This was no dream. 
Gatheringhis palsied limbs together, he opened his eyes, sprang from 
his seat, made a step forward, and gazed eagerly round the room. 
Before he could advance, or speak, or even utter a cry, he was 
instantly grasped by both arms with a strong and sturdy grip, and 
forced down again upon the chair. Something soft — a handkerchief 
he fancied, from the touch — charged with a stifling, aromatic odor, 
was passed rapidly before his face, and pressed for an instant over 
his eyes and mouth. The same distressing sense of dwindling power, 
of faintness, of utter prostration, be had before experienced over- 
came him once more, and a secornd time he relapsed into in- 
sensibility. 

But in the short interval during which Josh had been upon his 
feet, his eyes had taken in the scene passing before him. He had seen 
two figures standing by the brassdoound seaman’s chest beside the 
window, one holding open the massive lid, while the other, bending 
down, was depositing some white object inside. The face of the 
bending figure was turned away, but there was something in the 
general contour of the body that Josh thought strangely familiar to 
him. The same glance that had shown him the chest had also 
detected that the shutters and window were both wide open, and 
had revealed to him in reality the stars shining down upon the 
familiar features of the garden as he had previously^seen them in his 
dream. Then came oblivion. 

How long Josh lay unconscious he never knew. It might have 
been for minutes, it might have been for hours. When he did recover 
his senses and spring up, he found the wax candles upon the table 
had been blown out, and he was in the dark. The dim light given 
off by the fire enabled him to grope his way to themantlepiece, where 
finding matches here-lighted his candles and gazed about him. 

Everything perfectly calm and quiet. Nowhere a trace of dis- 
order or of intruders. Walking over to the chest, now closed and 
fast locked, as usual, and surve^dng it on all sides, he could not. per- 
ceive any token of its having been tampered with. The window at 
the end of the room, wide open when he was first roused, was now 
closed , the shutters bolted and secured by the heavy bar. Eancying 
for a moment the object of the midnight visitors might have been 
interference with the corpse. Josh raised the pall and pushed aside 
the massive coffin lids. The dead man’s battered visage glared 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


311 


blindly tip at him from its shroud, as if in mute remonstrance why 
he disturbed its last repose. 

Thoroughly at fault yet perfectly convinced that what he had 
both seen and felt was reality, Josh rushed back into the hall, and 
catching sight of the great gjong with which Jake usually summoned 
the family to meals, began to thunder upon that musical instrument 
with all his force. The effect was speedily perceived. Sundry" shrill 
squeals from the upper regions proclaimed that the Gorgons had 
taken the alarm ; a gruff oath or two and a loud shout of“Gor- 
amight3^ bless us ! De massa come to life again !” showed that the 
mutes and Jake fa 1 followed their example. In a very few minutes 
after Josh had struck the gong, all the household, in various stages 
of undress, were assembled in the hall around the disturber, and 
were listening with more or less pallor and credulity to all he had to 
tell. 

Josh peiisisting with great earnestness that he had distinctly seen 
persons in the library, the most natviral proceeding after such an 
alarm was to search the house. Every nook and corner was pried 
into, without any visible result save the discomforture of a few odd 
spiders and cockroaches, which scuttled off in dismay at the invasion 
of their privacy. 

Guenever had by this time joined the exploring party. Her clear 
good sense went to the test of evidence at once. She particularly 
questioned Josh as to the figure he declared he had seen bending 
over the chest. It was just the veteran’s pertinacity upon this 
point that made her doubt the correctness of his story altogether. 

“There must be some mistake, Rich, I feel positive,” she said. 
“That chest is only to be opened by a particular process, and in a 
particular way. No one except my poor father, his trusted servant 
Jake, Mr. Crosthwaite our solicitor, and I have ever known the 
secret. If people who had no business here really were in the library, 
it is quite impossible they could have unclosed the lid.” 

“ Begging your pardon, miss,” here chimed in one of the mutes, 
“mayhap the gentleman ain’t so very far wrong. He might ha’ 
thought-he seed summut, but then after emptying two-thirds o’ this 
here” — and the man held up the tell-tale rum bottle — “the only 
wonder is he ’s able to see anything at all. 

A murmur of assent went round the circle, only restrained by 
respect for Guenever from breaking into an open laugh. Notwith- 


312 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


standing Josh’s vehement disclaimers, public opinion — that resistless 
power — sided with the mute. The old soldier had his choice of two 
evils: either to plead guilty to intemperance upon his watch, or to 
acknowledge having dreamed a remarkably vivid and life-like 
dream. 


CHAPTER XLVII. 

BATTLE. 

Thanks to the skillful exertions of Panting the Great, the ob- 
sequies of Ralph Lee, Esq., late of The Towers, Norfolk, “good 
citizen and kind father, tender husband and warm friend ” — if we 
may believe the legend upon his tombstone — were brought to a 
satisfactory close. The procession turned out a grander sight than 
the county had ever beheld. To the general public, happily ignorant 
of the true character of the man it was conve 3 dng to the tomb with 
the funeral honors suitable only to the just and the upright, the 
wise and the good, the spectacle seemed but the fitting termination 
of a blameless, honorable, and well-spent life. It is a fortunate 
thing, perhaps, for many defunct reputations that as little has 
transpired as to their owners’ actual demerits as was known at 
that time by the clever and sagacious world about Ralph Lee. 

It had been arranged that the sailor’s will should be read immed- 
iately after the funeral. Some days before, when asked by Gueneter 
whether he thought her father had made any special proviso as to 
the place or manner of his burial, Mr. Crosthwaite had replied : 

“Set your mind at ease upon that point, my dear young lady. 
I am fully acquainted with all the Captain’s wishes. When he made 
his will in the summer, though Heaven knows neither he nor I antic- 
ipated it would come into operation so soon, he put me in posses- 
sion of everything he desired done in the very unlikely case of his 
decease. I hold a copy of the will, and know exactly where to lay 
my hand upon the original. Y6u may safely leave everything to 
me.” 


albanv stark^s revenge. 


3i3 


By the skill of Dr. Poll, Will had already sufficiently recovered 
from his hurt to be able to follow his uncle to the grave. His father’s 
funeral had taken place the previous day for this purpose. Panting 
the Magnificent was therefore, after all, gratified by the presence of 
a chief mourner nearlj’^ related to the deceased. Mr. Baird, having 
secured the mention of his name in the local papers as one of the 
main attendants at the ceremony, quitted the procession at the gate 
of the churchyard, and posted up to town as fast as four horses 
could carry him. His Lor. don clients could spare their eminent de- 
fender no longer, and ambitious rivals must not be permitted to 
usurp his throne. 

By this means it happened that the party which assembled in 
the library at the reading of the will was reduced to six. These 
were Mrs. Lee and Guenever, Will, Mr. Crosthwaite and his clerk, 
and Old Josh. The latter was admitted in his capacity as a humble 
friend of the family ; also because the solicitor thought it as well a 
disinterested- and discreet person should witness the proceed- 
ings. Had the legal gentleman known what was impending, he 
might perhaps have arranged for the discreet person’s absence. 

For it turned out that a seventh meant to be present, of whose 
mere existence. none of those concerned, save Mr. Crosthwaite, had 
the slightest idea. Even the solicitor’s knowledge of the unexpected 
visitor was but small, and the little he did possess decidedly unpre- 
possessing. Everything, however, in its place. Let us take the 
events of this remarkable day in the precise order wherein they came 
to pass. 

When word was sent up that the gentlemen had arrived, Mrs. 
Lee, wearing the regulation cap of horrors with streamers of appro- 
priate length, was led into the room by Guenever. The widow 
looked scared and woe-begone, and had clearly very slight under- 
standing of what was going to take place. Although her affection 
for the husband she had lost was not extreme, this poor lady had 
been in a state of pitiable nervous bewilderment ever since the catas- 
trophe. Naturally lymjDhatic and unimpassioned — as colorless in 
character as a washed out print — she was one of those muddle- 
headed persons whom any sudden or unforeseen event throws com- 
pletely off their feeble balance. She had never been accustomed to 
think or act for herself. Her father and her husband had successively 
guided and controlled her actions, and marked out the path she was 


314 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


to tread. Now, she was like a ship, whose compass tempest has 
suddenly swept overboard. She clung to Guenever as her only hope 
and stay, and as the girl tenderly led her to a seat, the contrast 
between her strong and vigorous womanhood and the bowed figure 
tottering at her side, struck vividly home to all who saw it. 

The preliminary greetings and civilities being duly gone through, 
Mr. Crosthwaite took from his clerk the professional blue bag, drew 
from it several papers, ranged them methodically upon the table 
before him, and began a little speech. 

All men — I care not what their temperament or station — love 
importance and power; all like doing what they know that they do 
well. Although little authority — far less indeed than he supposed— 
was destined to remain in this worthy gentleman’s hands, yet some 
there unquestionably was at present, and he drew himself up with a 
due sense of the dignity it conferred. Then, leaning forward npon 
the desk, he delivered his parable : 

“Ladies and gentlemen, before we proceed to the immediate bus- 
iness that has brought me here to-day, I shall have to claim your 
indulgence for a few preliminary remarks. My deceased client was 
very reluctant to make a will. Perhaps he was a little superstitious 
— as men of the calling he so long followed frequently are — perhaps 
he fancied it absurd to suppose any chance existed of his being sum- 
moned away, as has unfortunately been the case, in the fullness of 
health and strength. Be that as it may, it was only in compliance 
with my ugent request that he should make some disposition of the 
very considerable property his enterprise and industry had succeeded 
in acquiring, that he did eventually settle — er — the testamentary 
arrangement of which I hold a copy in my hand. The original I 
have reason to believe, is deposited in that chest. Miss Guenever 
will perhaps be good enough to correct me if I am wrong.” 

Guenever bowed. 

“Pre-cisely,” continued Mr. Crosthwaite, swaying himself gently 
backward and forward upon his heels and toes, “exactly so. As a 
matter of form — I believe I may say with confidence entirely as a 
matter of form — it will be my duty to convey to you my deceased 
client’s testamentary intentions from the original document we 
shall find in that chest. There is no reason to suppose it differs in 
one iota from the attested copy, but the law ordains that where an 
original doeument is available, resort shall not be had to a copy. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


^15 


and by the law, ladies and gentlemen, I need hardly observe, we 
must be guided. 

“ Before entering upon that point, there is another matter to whieh 
I must first solieit your attention. When my deeeased client hon- 
ored me with the instructions necessary to draw his will, facts of a 
ver3^ singular character transpired. They were indeed so remark- 
able that ” 

“Genelman want to see Misser Crostwait immediate. Dis am de 
genelman’s name.” 

“This announcement, in Jake’s best company manner, coupled 
with the appearance of a salver bearing a card immediately in front 
of Mr. Crosthwaite’s nose, cut short the thread of legal eloquence. 

“Hey, what?” exclaimed the solicitor snappishly. “See me? 
Can’t sec an\^body. Who is it ? Hem ! Mr. Albany" Stark ? Stark ; 
who’s Stark, Rogers? (To his clerk) Oh! that fellow. Say I’m en- 
gaged, my man, will you ; most particularly engaged. He had better 
call at my office in town.” 

Jake solemnly withdrew, and was presently heard in loud remon- 
strance with a deep voice in the room on the opposite side of the 
halh 

Mr. Crosthwaite groped for the broken thread. 

“Let me see, where was I? Oh! The facts that came to my 
knowledge at that period were so extremely remarkable ” 

“Genelman bobserve him quite aware of de fack,” reported Jake, 
ruthlessly breaking in again. “ But him must speak Misser Crost- 
wait most immediate, ’bout matter ob bery hig best importance to de 
family.” 

The grandiose manner in which Jake puffed out his cheeks and 
rolled his e\^es, as he delivered this second message, was a sight to 
be remembered. 

“Confound the man! Can’t he take an answer?” ejaculated the 
lawyer angrily. Tell him — no, stop; I’ll go myself. Excuse me, 
ladies, one moment, if you please. I’ll just send this troublesome 
person away, and be back immediately.” 

Immediately^ grew to five minutes, to ten, to a quarter of an 
hour, but the solicitor did not return. The hum of voices — one sharp 
and quick, the other equable, grave, and slow but none the less 
determined — floated across the hall to the ears of the party waiting 
in the library, but they could not distinguish what was said. It 


3i6 


ALMNY STARK'S REVENUE. 


was clear however that, whatever the cause of his visit, ^‘this 
troublesome person ” was not so easily dismissed as Mr. Crosth- 
waite had sanguinely supposed. 

Footsteps presently crossed the hall, and the solicitor put his 
flushed and discomposed face in at the door. 

“Mr. Blythe, oblige me by stepping out just one moment,” he 
said. “Pardon the delay, ladies; we shall not try your patience 
long.” 

Will quitted the library, and was ushered by Mr. Crosthwaite 
into the presence of Albany Stark. 

“This — er — this gentleman, Mr. Blythe,” said the solicitor with 
irritating emphasis upon the noun, “comes here upon a very sing- 
ular errand. He is aware, it seems, that your deceased uncle’s will 
is about to be read, and asserts his claim to be present. He ” 

“ Excuse me, no,” said Stark, quietly. “ I assert no claim ; I merely 
prefer a request. Mr. Blythe will best judge how far I am justified 
in so doing if he will favor me b 3 " perusing this.” 

He held out a note to Will. Mr. Crosthwaite interposed. 

“ If you ’ll be guided by me, Mr. Blythe, you’ll be ver^^ cautiout 
how you place faith in any document coming from this quarter 
without evidence attesting it to be genuine. For my part, I should 
look with the greatest possible doubt ” 

“Be careful, sir,” interrupted Stark, with perfect coolness but 
much decision. “ I shall not permit insinuations without demanding 
proof. Mr. Blythe, may I request the favor? ” 

Again he tendered the note. His quiet and gentlemanly tone 
presented a strong contrast to the excitable air of his opponent. 
Will looked in mute amazement from one to the other, and was 
utterly at a loss to understand the scene. 

“ Act as you think fit, Mr. Blythe,” ejaculated Crosthwaite warmly. 
Exercise your own judgment, but still I say, be cautious. I believe 
I had the honor of your late uncle’s sole and entire confidence. If 
that waso, the letter now tendered you can no t be genuine. I say 
no more.” 

“ Surely there can be no harm in reading it, at least,” remonstrated 
bewildered Will. “What interest could any person have in trying to 
deceive ? ” 

“Take your own course, sir, take your own course,” retorted 
Crosthwaite. “I have given you my opinion and can say no more. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


317 


But mind, I repudiate all responsibility. I wash my hands of the 
consequences. Whatever may happen, do n’t blame me. No, no; 
do n’t blame me.” 

He paced up and down the room in a fume of anger almost ludi- 
crous. Will turned to Stark. 

“Pray, sir, explain this matter.” 

“Upon my word, Mr. Blythe, I am almost as much in the dark as 
yourself. No man could be more astonished at encountering such a 
reception. The facts are extremely simple. Neither you nor this 
very irate gentleman appear to be aware that about a week before 
Captain Lee’s unfortunate decease, I met him b3^ special appoint- 
ment at Lynn. We were intimate years ago, but the course of life 
had cast us asunder. I found that my old friend desired to see me 
for a professional purpose I am of course not at liberty to disclose. 
He was then laboring under great melancholy and depression of 
spirits, without any adequate cause that I could perceive. When 
we parted he gave me this note, which must be my excuse for now 
intruding. The subsequent catastrophe I learned from the papers. 

“ Knowing it to be the usual practice that the will of the deceased 
should be read immediately after the funeral, I left town yesterday, 
intending to have arrived before, but an accident detained me on 
the road. Aware that Mr. Crosthwaite was the family solicitor 
and learning he was in the house, I sent in my card, anticipating 
certainly, notwithstanding perhaps a little natural annoyance at 
the contents of Captain Lee’s note, some approach to courtesvfrom 
a professional brother. To my extreme disgust, I met with suspicion, 
doubt, distrust, and all but positive insult. It was only upon my 
absolute refusal to leave the house without seeing some member of 
the family that he summoned 3^ou.” 

The tale was so smooth and plausible, so well backed up by the 
air ot apparent truth and candor this skilfull actor knew so well how 
to assume, that even Crosthwaite — evil as he had strong cause for 
believing Stark’s reputation to be — felt he might have been pre- 
cipitate and unjust. 

“Mr. Stark did not enter into all these particulars to me, Mr. 
Blythe,” he hastened to declare. “He never mentioned the fact of 
his previous visit to Lynn at all. He only presented this note, and 
demanded admission.” 

“Your prejudices, sir — whence derived lam entirely at a loss to 


318 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


divine — appear to have impaired your memory,'' returned Stark, 
stiffly. 

“I mentioned quite sufficient to have convinced any impartial mar, 
but you grew' irritated instantl\^ How^evcr, let us ascribe your cor_ 
duct to misunderstanding, if 3'ou prefer. After all, it matters little. 
Will Mr. Blythe now favor me by perusing my credentials? 

For the third time he tendered the note. Will took it without 
hesitation, and ran his eye through its contents. You and I are 
privileged persons, and may peep over his shoulder as he reads. 


The Towers, Sept. 16, 18 — 


My Dear Stark: — 

“To an old friend like yourself I donotmindconfessingthat of late 
a miserable foreboding has come over me of my approaching end. 
Why this should be I am quite unable to tell. My life has been more 
successful than most. I ’ve gained everything I ever tried to attain, 
and suppose I ought to be happy. I fancy sometimes I was never 
cut out for an idle life. Very likely I did wrong in quitting the sea. 
No matter now^ 

“ If my foreboding should come to pass and anything really does 
happen to me, you ’ll remember what we have arranged to-day, and 
do your best to carry it into effect. Of course you must be present 
wdien my will is read. Crosthw'aite has a copy of the original, 
though that won’t be much good now. Perhaps he’ll be annoyed 
that I have consulted you instead of him, and may refuse to act. In 
that case I wish you to step into his place, and this is to be your 
authority. But I should much prefer that you and he should pull 
together. 

“ In case w'e never meet again, farewell ! 

“Faithfully yours, 

Ralph Lee.” 


This note, it is almost an insult to your perspicacity to point out, 
was so artfully drawn up as to anticipate Crosthwaite’s opposition, 
and cut away the ground in advance from under his feet. It at once 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


319 


] suggested what the Germans call 5roc/-iVeic/— professional jealoUvS 3 ^ — 
as the motive for his distrust. That it was no more the genuine 
production of Ralph Lee than you and I are Chimpanzees — whatever, 
pace Mr. Darwin, our remote progenitors may have been — is apparent 
enough to us. But the fact of its being a daring and impudent 
forgery was not by any means so apparent to Will. To him it 
possessed the authority of his uncle’s hand and his uncle’s signature. 
(With half an hour’s practice, Stark could always imitate any man’s 
writing with the unerring fidelity of that arch-forger, the sun). For 
him it had all the mournful interest attaching to a relic of one whom 
he had loved, and who was now no more. He believed in it at once 
fully, perfecth’', and trustingly. 

“Poor uncle!’’ he sighed, as he unaffectedly wiped away a tear. 
“Though he did anticipate death, he little thought of the terrible 
shape in which it would come. Surely, Mr. Crosthwaite, your 
doubts must now be altogether ended. Wait here just one moment, 
my dear Mr. Stark, while I prepare my aunt and cousin to receive 
you.” 

“Act as you please, Mr. Blythe,” returned the invincible solicitor. 
“I wash my hands of all responsibility, whatever may happen. Mr. 
Stark, if I have done you injustice, I beg your pardon. No man can 
say more.” 

“My dear sir,” returned Stark, with the sublimest assurance, “i 
had not the faintest intention of asking so much.” 

Jake entered with the request that the two gentlemen would 
come to the librar\^ while Mr. Crosthwaite was pondering over the 
meaning hidden in this enigmatical reply. 


320 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


CHAPTER XLVIll. 


A STATEMENT. 

Politely declining Mr. Crosthwaite’s offer to take his place in 
explaining the intentions of the deceased, with the assurance that he 
was fully sensible of that gentleman’s eminent fitness for the task, 
Stark quietly took a seat just opposite the speaker’s desk, and lean- 
ing his head upon his hand, assumed the attitude of an attentive 
listener. After sufficient explanation of what he had already said to 
place his new auditor in possession of the facts, the solicitor 
continued . 

“The instructions I received from Captain Lee as to the contents 
of his will brought out certain family details of a very surprising char- 
acter. To avoid the necessity of the facts connected with these 
details getting abroad, I advised my client to embody them in a pre- 
liminary Statement, the contents of which should not transpire until 
the period of reading his will, and, not being touched upon in that 
document, could thus be kept from the knowledge of the world. The 
Captain took my advice. From his dictation I drew up the paper 
marked A, I now hold in my hand. As you will all see, it bears 
Captain Lee’s well known signature and was attested in due form 
by myself and my clerk. If you please, I will proceed to read this 
Statement, and after so doing those present not belonging to the 
family will at once preceive the reasons why absolute secrecy is 
imperative. Mrs. Lee and Miss Guenever, may I beg you to prepare 
yourselves for a great, I fear an unpleasant surprise.” 

“One moment,” interposed Stark. “Allow me to see that paper 
before you read it.” 

Here Crosthwaite had his enemy upon the hip, and smote him 
mercilessly. 

“My friend asks to inspect a document entrusted to me confiden- 
tially by my client for a particular purpose before I have acquitted 
myself of the trust,” he said, looking round upon his hearers. 

“Delighted as I should be under other circumstanees to obtain so 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGL. 


321 


eminent a professional opinion, my friend must excuse me if I decline 
to comply with his request. The signature,” added Crosthwaite, 
carefully doubling down the leaf and holding the botlK)m of the 
paper towards Stark, “Is at my friend’s service, to convince himself 
that it is genuine. Both my clerk and I are prepared to swear this is 
the identical Statement we saw signed in my office by Captain Ralph 
Lee on the 15th of June last. Hey, Rogers ? ” 

“Certainly, sir, ' promptly chimed in the clerk. “Signed, sealed, 
and delivered.” 

“That is my uncle’s signature undoubtedly,” said Will, looking 
over Stark’s shoulder. 

“Is my friend satisfied?” asked Crosthwaite, blandly. 

“I waive my request, sir. Proceed.” 

A gleam of malignant triumph shot across the solicitor’s usually 
good-tempered face. Here was some trilling satisfaction for his 
recent overthrow. Stark bore the look with his usual impassive air. 
Well he might, for he knew his victory was to come. 

Raising his voice, Mr. Crosthwaite read as follows : 

“I, the undersigned Ralph Lee, mastermariner, lateof Rockhills in 
the island of Jamaica, now of The Towers, Norfolk, England, being 
of sane mind and in sound bodily health, do state and declare, as 
follows: 

‘ ‘The child hitherto known as Guenever Lee, brought up in my family 
as my daughter, is not the offspring of myself or of the lady bearing the 
name of Mrs. Lee. Found by me under distressing circumstances at 
a very early agj, an orphan cast destitute upon the world, Ibrought 
her to my house and gave her into Mrs. Lee’s charge. Not having 
any family, we agreed that we would adopt the child and bring her 
up as our own. Mrs. Lee can give further details. I only do 
Guenever justice when I record that she has ever been tome as loving 
and obedient as daughtercould possibly be. She willfi-nd I havenot 
forgotten her in my will. I think it right however that when I am 
no more, she should learn that we are not her parents, and so 
perhaps be able to discover those who really gave her birth.” 

Guenever had fallen upon Mrs. Lee’s neck before the first sentence 
of the Statement had come to an end. The two women held each 
other tightly clasped in a sobbing embrace. 

“Oh, mamma, mamma! ” cried the poor girl, now lifting her head 
and gazing eagerly into the widow’s face. “ The only mother I have 


322 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


ever known, I ean’tlose both my parents over again. I need n’t ask 
you if it ’s true. I see it is. Don’t leave me, dear mamma; don’t 
give me up ! Whatever happens, let us keep together.” 

The burst of hysterieal sobs with whieh sheflung herself upon the 
widow’s neek and elasped the withered form against her warm 
young breast, eoming from one usually so self-possessed, nearly over- 
turned the feeble wits Mrs. Lee had still retained. The hysteries 
proved eontagious, but what the stronger nature struggled sueeess. 
fully to keep down, the weaker was overeomeby Mrs. Lee, who went 
offinto a violent fit of mingled sobs and laughter. 

Will hastened up to S3aiipathize and to eonsole. Crosthwaite 
and Josh rushed off for water, hartshorn, burnt feathers, and the 
various other reeondite remedies this partieular malady'' is believed 
to require. 

Stark, as a eomparative stranger, eould not of eourse obtrude hir. 
attentions, but tried to look as i interested as his rugged nature would 
permit. Outwardl^^ ealm, he was internally eongratulating himself 
that, thus far, this diselosure — totally unexpected even by him — 
would not at all defeat his well-laid plans. Yet he felt he had escaped 
a serious danger, and was by no means persuaded further and 
greater peril might not be instore. All would depend upon what this 
mysterious Statement still contained. Sidling carelessly^ past the 
desk, he tried to gain a glimpse of its purport, so as at any rate not 
to be taken by surprise; but chance or the habitual caution of his 
legal brother barred the way. The copy of the will covered the 
Statement, and prevented his discerning a word that it contained. 

The consolations of the sympathizers meantime had proved 
effectual. Guenever — ever more thoughtful for another than for her- 
selt — dried her eyes, and succeeded in regaining calm. The influence 
she posses-sed over Mrs. Lee was so great that she had little difficulty 
in restoring her to comparative qniet. Now however that the long, 
kept secret was disclosed, the widow could not rest before she told 
the few additional facts the Statement had not disclosed. 

“Yes, my dear, it’s all true,” she sobbed, “every word. Three 
years after we were married, the Captain brought you home on his 
return from a voyage. He had always been vexed that we had no 
family. One blessing was vouchsafed us — a darling little boy — but he 
was always weakty, and after leaving him with us only a few 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


323 


months, God took him to Himself. The Captain was bitterly disap- 
pointed, and from that time his moody fits began. 

“ Well, not long afterwards, he brought you to me. A timid, puny^ 
little thing, you were then, my dear, very different to now. The way 
the Captain found you was quite a romance. His ship had just 
come back from China, but the men had not yet been ashore. That 
very morning news arrived that the dreadful Maroons had broken 
out into rebellion. They had come down suddenly from the 
lountains, and were robbing and murdering right and left. Captain 
Lee — you know how brave he was, how daring — at once offered the 
governor the services of his crew to attack the rebels. They were 
readily accepted, and though the brave fellows had just comeoffthat 
long, long voyage and were dying to get ashore, they never 
murmured a bit, but volunteered to a man to go and help the poor 
women and children. , 

“The Captain put out to sea again, and sailed round to the revolted 
districts. When he reached his destination, he found the dreadful 
work in full progress. Several plantations had been attacked and 
burnt, and every living creature killed. Leaving part of the crew to 
guard the ship, the Captain landed with a strong body, and marched 
at once in search of the wretches! 

“He cameup with them just as they had attacked another planter’s 
residence, where, though the poor people fought most courageoush% 
they had been overpowered by superior numbers. The Maroons had 
broken in just before the Captain and his men arrived, had murdered 
every soul they coul find, and set fire to the house. The sailors 
rushed upon them instantly, and a dreadful slaughter took place. 
Of course the blacks were beaten, numbers killed and taken prisoner, s 
and the rest ran away. 

“The soldiers searched all over the place, and in one of the out 
houses found a poor frightened little girl, the only person left alive 
out of the whole family. That little girl my dear, grew up to be my 
loving child.” 

Guenever threw her arms around the widow’s neck and embraced 
her affectionately. Save Stark, who went through the form of 
ostentatiously applying his handkerchief, there was not a dry eye in 
the room. 

“But, dearest mother — for so I must and will always call you — 
was nothing ever known of my unfortunate parents ? ” 


324 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE, 


“Nothing, my dear. But the Captain told me it came afterwards 
from one of the servants who had escaped that your poor father and 
mother had only come with you on a visit to the planter’s family 
two days before the rebellion. The man did n’t know their names, 
but had heard they came from Kingston. Inquiries made there were 
fruitless, so we concluded your poor parents must have come over by 
the last packet, and had no other friends in the island than the 
Hills. That was the name of the planter’s family, all of whom were 
murdered.” 

“And there was no clue, no sign or token, not even a name?” 

“My dearj there was positively nothing. The Maroons had 
already plundered the house when the Captain came up, and they 
carried everything away in their flight. The only thing of value you 
wore was the coral necklace with the large gold clasp 3"ou have still ; 
but there was neither mark nor crest nor initial by which 3^ourname 
could be ascertained. Only upon your under-clothing there was a 
large G. I was young then, my love, young and romantic, and with 
the Captain’s leave I called you Guenever; but there is no other 
reason to suppose that is your correct name.” 

These were all the details Guenever could extract from Mrs. Lee. 
The cross-examining powers of Mr. Crosthwaite, necessarily exerted 
with delicacy, were not more successful. While the desultory con- 
versation was going on. Josh, who had listened to Mrs. Lee’s 
narrative with raised eyebrows and a look of utter unbelief, beckoned 
Will into a recess formed b3^ one of the library windows. 

“ That ’s a queer story, Muster Will,” he whispered. “ D’ ye think 
it ’s true?” 

“ Strange as it is, there ’s no reason to suppose otherwise. What 
makes you doubt it ? ” 

“Oh, I don’t purtend to know nought, o’ cou»'sc. But t’ is very 
odd we never hedrd a word of it afore. You don’t suppose it ’smade 
up now, do you ? ” 

“Of course not. You can’t suppose a simple-minded, truthful 
person, like my aunt, would tell so straightforward a stor3" if she 
did n’t know it to be correct. What ate you driving at, Rich ? Out 
with it.” 

• “ I ain’t got nothing to say, sir, not a word. It may be all right, 

an’ it may n’t. Leastways you ’ll allow it ’s strange, won ’t 3"ou 
now ? ” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


325 


Considering Josh’s incredulity only a phase of that mystery- 
mongering in which he knew the veteran at times indulged, Will 
quitted him with a curt assent, and joined the group around his 
aunt. Josh gazed after him with a singularly dubious expression 
upon his face, and slowly sauntered back to his seat, shaking his 
head ominously as if there were something in this new stage of the 
family history he was altogether at a loss to comprehend. 

“ Before I proceed with the secon-d part of my deceased client’s 
solemn and attested Statement,” resumed Mr. Crosthwaite, es- 
pecially addressing Guenever and Mrs. Lee, “it is my painful duty to 
warn you that it contains facts of an unusually distressing charac- 
ter. Facts, I regret to say, very damaging to the reputation of the 
deceased Captain Lee. If I may be permitted to advise, ladies, it 
would be far preferable these should be read in your absence, 
together with the will, and the contents of both be communicated 
to you afterwards privately. I need hardly observe that I make 
this proposal entirely with a view of sparing your feelings, which, I 
fear, must necessarily be much shocked by the disclosure the State- 
ment contains.” 

Guenever and Mrs. Lee looked into each other’s faces with dismay. 
The solicitor’s request was so evidently prompted solely by good 
feeling towards themselves that their hearts grew heavy with appre- 
hension of what these terrible facts might be. They consulted 
together a few minutes in whispers; then Guenever asked: 

“ Does what has still to come affect my mother, Mr. Crosthwaite, 
or myself?” 

“The communication affects Mrs. Lee, Miss Guenever. Allow me 
urgently to press my request. It will be better for all parties.” 

Mrs. Lee struck in with unwonted decision. 

“No, sir! ” she exclaimed. “Read out before all the world, if 
necessary, the paper that has been placed in your charge. Not an 
act, not a thought, of my life has been such as I need blush for. I 
demand that the Statement shall be concluded.” 

“But, dearest mamma,” urged Guenever, “consider ” 

She was silenced by Mrs. Lee. “No, my love,” ejaculated the 
widow. “ Here J must judge. End our suspense, sir, and proceed 
at once.” 

‘“As you please, madam,” returned the solicitor, shrugging his 
shoulders. “ My only object was to save you pain, and I should 


326 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


still recommend, if you will listen to me, the course I have ventured 
to propose. Well, as you insist, be it so. The Statement continues: 

“I further depose and declare that Clara, daughter of Colonel 
Wallis, formerly of Rockhills, Jamaica, to whom I was married at 
Kingston in September, 1816, and who has from that time forward 
borne the name of Mrs. Lee, is not my true and lawful wife! 

A shriek from Guenever followed these terrible words. But Mrs. 
Lee sat bravely upright, with her eyes fixed steadily upon the law- 
yer’s face. 

‘‘Go on, sir,” she said, firmly. “I have long suspected this. God 
help me! Goon.” 

“ ‘ ^is not my true and lawful wife. I was married previously in 

February, 1812, at St. Bride’s church, London, to Inez, only daughter 
of Don Ramon Yesillas, a Spanish planter in the island of Cuba. Of 
that marriage there was issue one son, Juan, born, as I am credibly 
informed and believe, November 14th following. Disagreement 
ensuing between the said Inez and myself, within a month after our 
marriage I left England and never returned toit again until recently, 
when I took up my residence at The Towers. My wife remained in 
London. The agent with whom I had left means for her support 
acquainted me with the birth of the boy, and regularly transmitted 
accounts of his welfare and progress until he reached his sixteenth 
year. Then, as I am informed, he died, and in six months afterwards 
his mother followed him to the grave. 

“ ‘ Long before this time I had married Clara Wallis. My reasons 
for so doing there is no occasion to state. This Statement is a 
record of facts for the guidance of those I leave behind, not of futile 
regrets for any errors into which I may have fallen. It is only justice 
to the lady I have so deeply injured to state that she has always 
proved to me a good and faithful wife, and in consideration of this, 
and to repair as fully as possible the wrong done to her, I have made 
ample provision for her, as well as for the child called Guenever, in 
my will. 

‘“In explanation of the chief bequest in that Will, I consider my- 
self bound to state that I have never felt fully satisfied with the 
evidence furnished of the supposed death of my son. The certificate 
forwarded by my agent was in due form ; the deposition of the med- 
ical man said to have attended him in his last illness was clear and 
straightforward ; a letter from my wife announcing the news to my 


ALBANy STARK'S REVENGE. 


32 ? 


agent was in her handwriting and apparently genuine. Still, I have 
all my life been guided by intuitions, which have rarely proved false ; 
and something seems to tell me that m3' son still lives. There lurks 
within me a hope, based I admit upon no facts, unwarranted even 
by any probability, that I may some day look upon his face before I 
die. Even should we never meet, and supposing him to be discov- 
ered, the knowledge that he will benefit by m3^ decease, of itself 
almost reconciles me to the idea of death. 

“ ‘ Lastly, though not a superstitious man nor given to believe in the 
humbug put forth by priests, I think I should rest more cpiietly in 
my grave if those I have injured during life will forgive me after I 
am dead.^ 

“This Statement is signed by the deceased Ralph Lee, as vow may 
perceive,” concluded Mr. Crosthwalte, handing the paper round for 
inspection, “and attested, as I said before, by myvself and my clerk, 
here present.” 

“Here present,” echoed the clerk. 

A deep silence reigned throughout the room after the last words 
were uttered. Not unnaturally perhaps the ev'es of all were turned 
upon her most affected by this final disclosure. Mrs. Lee sat speech- 
less, rapidly retracing in her mind the events of her past life, and 
trying to think whether she had wittingly done aught to justify the 
terrible punishment that had fallen upon her. But she could not. 
Placed in a position the most acutely painful to a virtuous and pure- 
minded woman, she was able through sheer innocei^ce of spirit and 
intention to feel, not only guiltless — any chaste woman would have 
felt that — but unhumiliated, unabashed, unstained. 

She met Guenever’s pitying eye with a calm and loving gaze. 
The girl’s quick intellect read in an instant to the bottom of the 
woman’s soul, and she sank upon the breast that had soothed and 
comforted her childish troubles with a cry of fervent delight . 

“Oh, thank Heaven, my dear, my dear! ” murmured Guenever, as 
she pressed the widow to her again and again. “ I feared so much 
you would have been crushed beneath the blow, but God is merciful, 
and He has given you strength.” 

Turning to Mr. Crosthwaite, w]jo surveyed the singular scene 
with much interest, Guenever continued : 

“You may proceed, sir, and complete your tafsk. My mother and 
I will listen to the end.” 


328 


AL<1:>Ai\1 KLi, V ' 


Muttering to himself something about women ])eing queer crea- 
tures — he was a bachelor, or the remark would have been in his eyes 
a truism — the solicitor rang for Jake, and with the negro’s assistance 
proceeded to open the seaman’s chest in which he had before stated 
he believed the will to be contained. 

Yes, there it lay, to all appearance untouched since the day when 
Ralph, in th presence of Guenever and his solicitor, had placed it 
upon the spot where it was now discovered. 

There it lay, neatl}" tied round with red tape, with the paper 
pinned to the exterior bearing the words: “ My will. Crosthwaite 
has a copy.— Ralph Lee.” 

“I call all present to witness,” said the solicitor, as he bent for- 
ward and took up the parchment, “that we have here the last will 
and testament of the deceased Captain Ralph Lee, which I shall now 
proceed to set forth.” 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

RALPH lee’s will. 

It is my privilege to carry you, whose eyes rest upon these pages, 
whither I will, and in the exercise of my discretion I shall ask you 
to imagine yourself within the walls of a beleaguered fortress. 
Traitors in the besieging camp have notified to the garrison the 
hour and the point of an attack. Forewarned, we have prepared a 
mine, and are awaiting the enemy’s approach. Tramp, tramp! — 
we hear his heavy footfall beat upon the quiet midnight air. Tramp, 
tramp! — onward he comes, steadily, bravely, without flinching. 
With beating hearts and eyes straining through the mirk, we watch 
until he reaches the spot where we have decided he shall meet his 
doom. He is close upon it; now, he has arrived! One flash of the 
match, followed by a bright, sudden blinding glare; then a roar as 
of a thousand thunders; then the spatter of mingled earth and 
human limbs, the dreadful rain of the gory water of life, and we 
know, by the dead silence that ensues, the danger is past and the 
victory is won. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


329 


With much such feelings as I have asked you to realize, Albauy 
Stark silently awaited the reading of Ralph Lee’s will. He — and he 
only — knew what that document really contained. He — and he 
only — watched with the anxious expectation of the beleaguered sol- 
dier as he saw the enemy, in the shape of Charles Crosthwaite, Esq., 
charge steadily and self-confidently up to the spot when he deadly 
mine had been dug. He — and he alone — aware of the coming shock, 
was ready to avail himself to the utmost of the devastation it would 
spread. 

“This document, ladies and gentlemen,” began Mr. Crosthwaite, 
blowing his nose sonorously, “is the original last will and testa- 
ment of my deceased client, Captain Ralph Lee. I have before 
observed that I hold in my hand a copy — attested by myself and 
my clerk — of this important paper, and that I have therefore reason 
to believe I am fully acquainted with its contents. As a matter of 
form, however, it will be more correct to read the whole of the 
clauses and conditions from the original. Thus saith the Will : 

“ ‘ I Ralph Lee master mariner late of Rockhills Jamaica now of 
The Towers Lynn Norfolk being of sound mind and healthy in body 
to make the following disposition of all the property now at my 
disposal this fifteenth day of June in the 3 ^ear of salvation one thou- 
sand eight hundred and thirty-seven 

“ ‘First being of opinion for reasons already stated to those im- 
mediatel 3 '’ concerned by my solicitor Charles Crosthwaite Esq. that 
my son Juan the lawful issue of my body by my marriage with 
Donna Inez Vesillas in February 1812 at St. Bride’s Church Fleet 
Street in the City of London may still be alive do give devise and 
bequeath unto the said Juan for his sole use and benefit all and sev- 
eral the real and personal property with the exceptions hereinafter 
named of which I now stand seised The said bequest however only 
to hold good in case the existence of the said Juan should be proved 
and his identity as the true and lawful issue of my said marriage 
with the said Inez Vesillas be established to the content and satis- 
faction of my executor within the period of ten years from this 
present date In the event of the decease of the said Juan being ascer- 
tained upon positive and incontrovertible evidence during the said 
period of ten years after the date of these presents I will devise and 
bequeath the entire amount of the property that would hereby have 
accrued to the said Juan with the exception hereinafter named to 


330 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


my sister Annis wife of Edward Blythe farmer of Paston Grange 
near Lynn in the county of Norfolk for her sole use and benefit 
entirely and wholly independent of her husband the said Edward 
Blythe in any and every way whatsoever And if it should happen 
that the said Edward Blythe is still living at the date of my decease 
and refuses or neglects within six months after such decease to ex- 
ecute a deed making over to his wife the said Annis all right and 
title the law may confer upon him to the bequest 1 now make to his 
said wife then and in that case I revoke the bequest of the said 
property to my sister Annis and desire that her son William issue of 
herself and the said Edward Blythe also of Paston Grange in the 
County of Norfolk aforesaid may enter in her stead into all the said 
rights and privileges to which she the said Annis would have been 
entitled by reason of her succession to the said property The intent 
and purpose of these stipulations being that the afore-mentioned 
Edward Blythe shall not in any way that I am able to prevent either 
directly or indirectly derive any the slightest benefit whatever from the 
bequest I hereby make to his wife or failing her to her son and still 
further to ensure that the said Edward Blythe shall not enjoy any 
material advantage from the said property I will and bequeath such 
said property to my sister Annis for her life solely desiring that after 
her decease it may pass intact to her son William and after him in 
equal proportions to his heirs or issue if any And I do further will 
and enjoin that in case after succeeding upon the demise of the said 
Annis or by the refusal or neglect of the above-mentioned Edward 
Blythe to execute such deed of renunciation as before stated the said 
William to die without issue the said property be then and at once 
divided in the proportions hereinafter directed among certain char- 
ities subsequently named 

^ And in order to atone for any wrong I have doneto Dame Clara 
Wallis commonly known as Clara Lee daughter of the late Colonel 
Wallis formerly of Rockhills Jamaica and to compensate her so far 
as lies in my power for an injury of which she is aware I do hereby 
give and bequeath to the said Dame Clara Wallis commonly known 
as Lee for her sole use and benefit during her life and with free right 
of disposal in any way she may think proper at her death all that 
landed estate and messuage with dwelling house and plantations 
known as and included in the estate of Rockhills Jamaica which 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


331 


passed into my hands upon the demise of the late Colonel Wallis 
aforesaid 

‘ ‘ ‘ And I hereby further give and bequeath to be paid out of the 
amount standing to my credit in the Three per Cent. Consolidated 
Annuities at the Bank of England by my executor within three 
months after my decease to Guenever commonly known as Guenever 
Lee who has resided in my family and been brought up as my 
daughter since the year 1820 the sum of six thousand pounds ster- 
ling to be wholly and solely at her own disposal during life and for 
her to devote to any purpose she may think proper at her death 
The said Guenever is entitled to this sum which is the payment of a 
debt 

“ ‘To Jake my faithful negro servant I give and bequeath the sum 
of one hundred pounds and I make it my particular request to Dame 
Clara Wallis commonly known as Lee that she will retain him in 
her service To the other domestics in my service at the time of my 
decease I bequeath decent mourning and the sum of ten po’mdseach 

“‘I hereby appoint my good friend and solicitor Charles Crosth- 
waite Esq. of the Inner Temple my sole and only executor requesting 
him to accept the sum of five hundred pounds as a slight token of 
regard and in recompense for the trouble to which he will probably 
be put in carrying the stipulations of my will into effect.’ ” 

“This,” concluded Mr. Crosthwaite, laying the parchment upon 
the table, “is the last will and testament of my late friend and client, 
Captain Ralph Lee. I confess,” added the solicitor, turning with a 
smile of triumph to Albany Stark, “that I am now more than ever 
at a loss to understand the object that has procured us the favor of 
my friend’s presence here, for I do not perceive he is so much as men- 
tioned in the document I have just read. Would it be trespassing 
too greatly upon his well-known urbanity to ask him to explain?” 

Stark rose quietly and came forward to the table. There was an 
air of conscious power in his bearing that strongly impressed the 
beholders. The effect was heightened by the deep tones of the voice 
that issued from those cold impassive lips. 

“With pleasure,” he said. “I am naturally a humane man, and 
always willing to humor harmless foibles. Observing the delight 
my friend felt in the transient importance of his imaginary position, 
I permitted him to act out his innocent farce to an end. 

“His farce! Imaginary position! What do you mean, sir?” 


332 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


ejaculated Crosthwaite, starting angrily forward. “How dare 
you 

“ Very simply. By right of the authority vested in me by my, or 
your, or our, if you prefer the partnership, deceased client. I could 
have stopped the performance at the outset had I chosen, but I did 
not. Never visiting the theatre, I don’t dislike to see a clever ama- 
teur upon a private stage, and you played your part creditably. 
Now it is at an end.” 

“This is unheard of insolence!” cried the irate solicitor. “Is a 
man of reputation and standing in the profession to be bearded by 
a ” 

“Stop! Be careful. Slander is actionable, and here are witnesses 
in plenty. I am quick-tempered also, and might perhaps take the 
law into my own hands. I do not wish to throw you out of the 
window, therefore be wise.” 

Turning to the remainder of his audience, who had listened to 
the dispute between the two legal luminaries with silent wonder, 
Stark continued : 

“ I do not know, ladies and gentlemen, that I can do better than 
follow the eminent example of my acute and learned friend, and pi'c- 
face what I have to communicate by a few remarks. I shall be more 
concise, however, than he was, and not trespass upon your patience 
at such inordinate length. 

“Just one week previous to the unfortunate event we all so much 
deplore, I received a note from the late Captain Lee, asking me to 
meet him the following day at Lynn. Here it is, provided any wish 
to inspect it. Many years ago, as I informed the eminent gentleman 
of standing in his profession opposite. Captain Lee and I were inti- 
mate, but time had exercised its usual effect of sundering us, and we 
had not met. At our recent interview, the deceased gentleman in- 
formed me he wished to alter his will, but did not desire to employ 
Mr. Crosthwaite for that purpose. He hated remonstrance, he told 
me, and my friend here — as we have discovered for ourselves — was 
given to be prosy. I advised Captain Lee to add a codicil to his 
present will, in place of making a new testament, and he agreed. 
Acquainting me with his wishes, I embodied them in the codicil, 
which — if my acute friend of reputation and standing in his profes- 
sion had taken the trouble to turn over the leaf— he would have 
found, unless I am mistaken, upon the ensuing page.” 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


333 


He took the will from the table, and struck the parchment open 
with his hand. 

“ Quite so. As I imagined, there it is ! " 

Crosthwaite rushed eagerly to his side; Will and Josh followed, 
and looked over his shoulder. 

“Good Heavens! ” muttered Crosthwaite. “I never dreamt of 
looking further. Give it to me.” 

“Not so, my worthy friend,” retorted Stark. “ It is my turn now 
to play the leading part. The codicil to the will we have just heard 
so beautifully read runs thus : 

‘“I Ralph Lee master mariner &c. &c.’ — you know the formula — 
‘do add unto my foregoing last will and testament the following 
codicil dated this sixteenth September in the year one thousand 
eight hundred and thirty seven. 

“ ‘ Having reason after mature consideration to believetheimpres- 
sion afore-stated that my son Juan might still be alive altogether 
unfounded finding also upon examination the evidence of his decease 
in 1828 so strong that further doubt would be childish and absurd 
I hereby absolutely revoke and cancel the allocation in his favor of 
all the real and personal property not otherwise disposed of and of 
which at this present date I stand seised 

“ ‘ The bequests contained in my aforegoing will to Dame Clara 
Wallis commonly known as Lee to Guenever commonly known as 
Guenever Lee to my servant Jake and to such other domestics as may 
be in my service at the time of my decease I herewith confirm declar- 
ing all others to be absolutely null and void 

“ ‘ The remaining portion of my real and personal property not in- 
cluded in the aforesaid bequests with the exception of a sum of one 
thousand pounds to be hereinafter alotted I herewith give devise 
and bequeath absolutely to Don Ramon Vesillas planter of the island 
of Cuba or the heirs of his body or his present legal representatives 
in such satisfaction for a great wrong as it remains in my power to 
afford 

Further I hereby will and appoint Albany Stark Esq. of Clem- 
ent’s Inn my sole executor and legal representative and request him 
to accept the sum of one thousand pounds sterling as some recom- 
pense for his trouble in carrying into effect these my last earthly 
wishes.’ ” 

“These are the contents of the codicil,” added Stark, looking 


334 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


round upon his astounded audience. “They modify, as I need 
hardly point out, to a very considerable extent the tenor of the 
original, but I am happy to be able to congratulate some of those 
present, at least, that no change in their prospects is effected.” 

He bowed as he spoke to Mrs. Lee and Guenever. Crosthwaite 
meantime was peering eagerly over his shoulder at the unwelcome 
codicil. All suavity and complaisance. Stark hastened to place the 
document in his professional brother's hands. 

“ Signed, attested, and executed in due form and order, my dear 
sir, I assure you,” he observed. “Who are the witnesses? Aha! 
Cautious, professionally cautious ; but of course quite right to ask. 
Both persons of unexceptional character, I am given to understand. 
Friends, or at any rate acquaintances of the deceased.” 

“Was the late Captain Lee acquainted with either or both of 
these individuals. Miss Guenever? Who or what are they ? ” asked 
Crosthwaite, abruptly, pointing to the signatures of the witnesses 
to the codicil. 

“Captain Blande was staying here for some weeks,” replied Guen- 
ever with a vivid flush. “He is a gentleman, of course; highly 
respectable, and I believe of good family. The other name — Abiah 
Riggs — I never heard before.” 

“A sailor, I imagine, from his appearance,” interposed Stark. 
“The Captain called him up from the street to witness his signature. 
I need hardly say the man was an utter stranger to me.” 

” Hm ! ” sneered Crosthwaite. “ A convenient witness. Can you 
say whether this signature is really Captain Blande’s, Miss Guen- 
ever ? ” 

“Well — ye — yes, I think so; indeed I have no doubt,” was the con- 
fused reply. 

“We must make some allowance for my friend’s natural, though 
uncomplimentary suspicion,” put in Stark, quietly. “It is a dis- 
appointment, I admit, to find another person deeper in his client’s 
confidence than himself. Everybody else is satisfied, I presume.” 

He looked round triumphantly, then turned to Crosthwaite with 
a final stab. 

“Allow me to condole with j’^ou, my very dear sir, upon this unex- 
pected turn in the events of the day. Believe me, my sincerest 
sympathy ” 

“Keep your pity, sir, till it is asked for! ” snarled the discomfited 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


335 


legatee, in a sudden burst of fury. “You have not heard the last of 
this matter yet. I shall dispute that codicil, which I do not for one 
moment believe genuine. Come, Rogers.” 

Hastily bidding the ladies and Will Blythe good day, the family 
solicitor withdrew, carrying with him this last arrow from tl c 
quiver of triumphant Stark. 

“Of all the painful spectacles under the sun, the most distressing 
is a gentleman of character and standing in the profession unable to 
keep his temper. 


CHAPTER L. 

SUSPICIONS. 

A week had passed since the scene detailed in the preceeding 
chapter — a week less filled with startling incidents than many b3’ 
which it had been preceded, yet not entirely uneventful as regards 
the progress of this history towards its close. 

Before leaving The Towers upon the memorable day of Mr. 
Crosthwaite’s discomfiture. Stark had arranged with Will, who 
negotiated on behalf of the helpless women, that possession of the 
house should be given up to him, as executor, in the course of the 
week. This had now been done. 

Seated in Ralph’s arm-chair in the study. Stark smoked a cigar 
of a particularly fine brand he had found among the effects of the 
deceased, and sipped some of the choicest wine the cellars of The 
Towers could afford. Victorious, he calmly surveyed the scene of 
the decisive battle and gloated overthespoils that he had won. The 
grand stumbling-block he had foreseen was Crosthwaite, andhehad 
started with the deliberate intention of so greatly offending that 
personage as to bring about precisely the result that had come to 
pass. The family solicitor held aloof from the matter altogether in 
sullen disgust, and let Stark act as he pleased. Crosthwaite got rid 
of, the keen eye of a professional man taken away. Stark had easy 
play with the simple women, as ignorant of law as of logarithms, 


336 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


and with plain, straightforward Will. Yes, he had played his cards 
adroitly, with admirable skill, and a grim smile stole over his face as 
he sat in the dead man’s chair and sipped the dead man’s wine, and 
blew out the smoke from his choice Havana in an azure little whirl. 

Yet at that very moment, in a farm-house not five miles distant 
as the crow flies from the spot where the successful schemer sat, the 
first thoughts were being clothed in words that were to undermine 
the entire fabric based upon relentless vengeance and crowned with 
triumphant, clever villianly, and send it, with its architect, flying 
into indefinable space. 

By his mother’s desire Will had invited the homeless women to 
take up their residence oit the Grange, until they could decide upon’ 
their future plans. The ofier was gladly accepted. Both Mrs. Lee 
and Guenever had a great desire to make the acquaintance of that 
adored mother, of whose praises Will was constantly so full, as well 
as of Alice Mayne, touching whose good qualities he said less, but, 
as they strongly suspected, thought the more. 

Annis was extremely pleased with her new guests, who, in their 
turn, felt they had drifted at last into a haven of quiet peace and 
family affection such as they had never previously enjoyed. The 
strong bond of union formed by their common loss, and the distres- 
sing family circumstances under which the two households met, went 
far at once towards removing all feeling of strangeness between 
them ; congeniality of mind and temperament, concord in ideas, and 
similar tone of thought completed what like blows of fate had be- 
gun; the seeds of friendship ripened in a few hours into the full-blown 
flower of intimacy and affection. Between the two girls — Guenever 
and Alice — an especial warmth of feeling instantaneously sprang up. 
Each seemed to find the other supply a soul-void both had often felt, 
but had imagined must be borne as one of the ills incident to life. 
Now the gap was filled. 

The singular and unusual firmness shown by Mrs. Lee upon the 
discovery of the irreparable wrong done her by him she had always 
regarded as her rightful husband had not long survived the occasion 
which gave it birth. Reaction speedily set in. She had hurried on 
the preparations for quitting The Towers with feverish haste, but 
when this transient excitement was over, and they had experienced 
the warm and hearty welcome of Annis and Will at the Grange, 
nature — strained to unbearable tension — had succumbed. For the 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE, 


337 


last two days Mrs. Lee had been eonfined by nervous debility to her 
room, and was earehilly nursed by Guenever. 

Thus it eame to pass that on that same evening, while Stark w.m 
calmly enjoying the fruits of victory at The Towers, Alice Mayne, 
Will and his mother were sitting in council over the position affairs 
had asvsumed. 

By Will’s desire Stark had furnished him with a copy of his 
uncle’s testament. He had not done this readily, indeed had at first 
altogether refused, but upon reflection had come to the conclusion 
that persistence would be unwise. It was essential to the success of 
his daring scheme to avoid arousing suspicion. From Cro«thwaite 
Will had, by his mother’s wish, obtained the original Statement of 
Ralph Lee, containing the revelations by which all had been so 
greatly taken by surprise. Both these documents were upon the 
table of the sitting-room where the three were now assembled. 

At Annis’s request, Will again went over all the circumstances 
that had happened at The Towers, stopping, at intervals, to answer 
his mother’s acute questions until every separate item of the scene 
stood out clear before the minds of his hearers. Then, in the same 
slow and careful way, he read aloud the Statement, his uncle’s will, 
and the codicil, repeating such portions as were unclear or appeared 
the most important. Next came a long, dead silence, broken at last 
by the gentle tones of Annis’s quiet voice. 

‘‘I confess,” she said, ‘‘to ver3^ considerable doubts whether 
everything is as straightforward as it seems. I fully believe, o 
course, the perfect genuineness of poor Ralph’s Statement, and of ^ 
Will as drawn by Mr. Cro.sthwaite. But the production of the cod 
icil — so strange, so utterly unexpected — does certainly seem to me 
most suspicious. Yet, on the other hand, how can there be any- 
thing wrong?” 

“If there is,” said Will, bluntly, “that Stark ’s the party. I don’t 
pretend to be much of a judge of men, but no one could listen to him 
for a moment and not see he was a person of very great abilities 
and very small scruples. The way in which he sent that unluek^^ 
Crosthwaite to the right-about was masterly, but brutal. I detest 
the fellow. 

“ Dear Will !” remonstrated Annis. 

“Well, I do, mother, and it ’s no use pretending otherwise. I hate 
a man who does n’t show a bit of consideration for another’s feel- 


22 


338 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


ings. The way Stark treated Crosthwaite, I repeat, was brutal. I 
do n’t think I ’m vindictive generally, but I should be delighted to find 
he ’d been guilty of some precious rascality just for the pleasure of 
seeing him punished.” 

“My boy, that is n’t a proper spirit in which to indulge,” rejoined 
his mother. “If we talk over this matter at all, it must only be with 
the wish to discover the truth, for truth’s sake, not for any private 
end. If we allow ourselves to be biased by dislikes, we cannot be 
impartial, and I know you would be the last in the world to be 
unjust.” 

“Well, of course, but what reason except mean, petty spite could 
this fellow have for acting as he did ? Aware all the time the codicil 
he drew up quite negatived the will, he let Crosthwaite go to the 
end and then sneered at him for not being acquainted with what he 
could n’t possibly know. 1 do hate meanness and deceit, mother, 
and I feel certain Stark has heaps of both. Where a man will deceive 
on one point, he ’ll do it on another. Thank God poor father did n’t 
make a lawyer of me, if Stark ’s a fair specimen of the breed.” 

“Another reason why we should be doubly cautious of bringing 
any charge, is the change made by the codicil in our own position. 
Mr. Crosthwaite, you know, has no doubt whatever poor Ralph’s 
son by his first m irriage is long since dead, and that it could be proved 
without a ciuestion. In that case, by the will we should inherit. 
Now though I feel pretty sure you desire as little as I to have the 
fearful responsibility of this large fortune, yet we must respect the 
wishes of the dead. If the will as first drawn up stands good, we 
must accept the trust.” 

“I do n’t want a penny of Uncle Ralph’s money,” blurted out Will, 
passionately, “ and would n’t take it if’t was offered. We’ve got 
enough and to spare, and shall never want while I ’ve got hands to 
work. As for fortune, I hate the very sound of the word. What 
good did uncle’s do him after he ’d spent the best years of his life in 
scraping it together ? Was he any th® happier because he could 
write a cheque for fifty or sixty thousand any day ? We do n’t know 
what led to that dreadful quarrel that ’s cost poor father his life — 
and I .suppose we never shall now — but I ’m very much mistaken if 
some dispute about money was n’t the cause of that. Curse money, 
mother, say I, from the bottom of my soul ! ” 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


339 


And Will Blythe clenched his argument by delivering upon the 
unoifending table a mighty thump. 

This unexpected outburst from ordinarily quiet, cheerful Will 
rather frightened the women. They stared appalled at his angry 
features, and shivered at the loud tones of his furious voice. Annis 
endeavored to allay the storm with her invariable remedy, the mes- 
meric touch of her soothing hand. 

“Hush, dearest boy! You’ll disturb poor Mrs. Lee. I know, ,I 
know you ’ve no more craving after your poor uncle’s property than 
I have, and Heaven grant we may be spared its falling to us. I sup- 
pose I expressed myself badly, but what I meant to say was this: 
As, if the codicil should prove void, we should, in the eyes of the 
world, be the fortunate legatees, it’s most essential we shouldn’t 
afford any pretext for misjudging our motives in seeking the truth.” 

“The fortunate legatees! ” repeated Will, with a bitter smile. 

“In the eyes of the world, I said, dear,” interposed his mother, 
gently. “Not in yours or mine, Heaven knows. Truth, justice and 
respect for the wishes of the dead are the only motives by which we 
can possibly be guided. And to discover what these wishes really 
are, we must try in the first place to learn whether this codicil is 
genuine. If so, our anxieties are at an end. Come, look at the mat- 
ter calmly, as I do, and let us consider what are the points we must 
examine.” 

“One of the first, I take it,” said Will, “should be — who benefits 
by the change. That ’s easily answered : Stark. In the will he is n’t 
mentioned; by the codicil he takes a thousand. The will makes 
Crosthwaite executor, a man there was every reason to suppose 
possessed my uncle’s confidence; the codicil ^^'isses him over al- 
together, and places sole present control over the property in the 
hands of Stark, a man none of us ever knew, acting for another we 
never heard of, and who may have no existence at all. If anything 
is wrong — and I quite believe there is — depend upon it Stark is the 
doer.” • 

“But is it after all certain wrong has been done?” asked Alice 
Mayne, for the first time joining in. “As dear Mrs. Blythe knows, I 
have been acquainted with Mr. Stark from my childhood. He as- 
sisted my mother in all her little money transactions, and we never 
found him anything but perfectly fair and just. I quite agree with 
Mr. William that he is not a man of pleasant manners, harsh and 


340 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


stern, but I cannot for a moment believe he would lend himself to 
deception.’^ 

“That’s what the lawyers call evidence to character, isn’t it, 
Miss Mayne?” asked Will, with a smile. 

“And the strongest support of my argument in favor of caution, 
hothead,” rejoined his mother. “My dears, the matter is easily 
tested. Without examining the codicil at all, there are pointsinMr. 
Stark’s statement we can inquire into, which will show whether he 
has spoken the truth. As to his interview at Lynn with your uncle, 
for instance. You, Will, can easily find out whether they did meet 
at the time he says ; whether Captain Blande and this Riggs after- 
wards came up; whether writing materials were sent for, and so 
forth. If we find a flaw there, strong reason will be given to doubt 
the rest, and we can go on. What say you, my boy ? Will you make 
these inquiries ? ” 

“Ay, mother, with all my heart. And if we don’t catch Mr. 
Clever tripping on these points, I ’ll carry the search further still. 
Depend upon it, more will come out than we anticipate.” 


CHAPTER LI. 


JOSH MAKES A DIS::OVERY. 

In accordance with the decision just recorded. Will Blythe set 
out next morning to pursue his inquiries in Lynn. It had occurred 
to Annis, during the night, that it would be well if her son took 
their old friend, the Village Oracle, into council, and associated that 
worthy with him in the quest. Apart from his Waterloo foible, she 
knew Josh to possess considerable cool shrewdness, precisely the 
quality most needed upon the present occasion, and that which in 
downright Will was specially lacking. ' 

“Our first point, Muster Will,” said the veteran, as the two 
trudged off together, “must be the Rose and Crown in the market- 
place. That’s the house Cap’n Lee always used, and if he giv’ this 
ere Stark a meetin’ at all, ’t was there. I do n’t believe he ever set 
foot in another public in the town.” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


341 


“Yes, but beliefs won’t do, Rich; we’ve got to ascertain facts. We 
shall have to try all through.” 

‘‘Sartin sure, and let the search turn out how it may, I’ve got 
something I want to talk over with you arterwards, as seems to my 
mind rather mixed up with the consarn.” 

“ Ay, indeed. What ’s that ? ” 

“One thing at a time, sir,” returned the Oracle, with a mysterious 
wink. “ We must go to work systematic in this ’ere business, or we 
shall get muddled. The cleverest rogue on airth always leaves 
some little bit of a loophole undefended, an’it ’s that we must attack 
But the only way to diskiver his weak pint is to try regular all 
round his outworks an’ keep cool.” 

“ Well, take \^our own course, Rich. You’ve more experience of 
the world than I, and I willingly leave the matter in your hands. 
One thing however is certain. That is, if we find reason to suspect 
anything wrong, we shall have to follow up the clue, cost what it 
may in trouble, money, or time. No one must be able to say the 
Bl3Thes of Pas ton Grange shrank back from doing their duty.” 

“Right so. Muster Will, right, sir,” nodded the old man approv- 
ingly. “Duty afore everything. Them ’s my sentiments to a T, an’ 
if there’s a screw loose anywhere, trust me we shall find him out.” 

Mine host of the Rose and Crown was mighty civil to Will 
Blythe, as landlords in country towns are usually to thriving young 
farmers who have just inherited paternal acres. Interrogated how- 
ever upon the subject of inquiry, his memory presented an unprom- 
ising blank. 

Did he recollect when Captain Lee met a gentleman from London 
at his house ? — Well, he could n’t exactly say he did or he did n’t; he 
was always a poor hand at dates. 

Did he remember whether such a meeting took place at all ? — 
Hm ! Well, he was n’t exactly sure. It might or it might n’t. There 
was a power o’ folk constantly passing in and out o’ the house, an ’t 
was more than he eould do to tell who did come and who went 
away. Whenabouts was it ? 

“That’s precisely what we want to ascertain, Gibson,” retorted 
Will, testily. •“ Why, man, you must recollect the cireumstanee if it 
reall}^ did occur. My uncle met a sol — a gentleman from London — 
by appointment here, we understand, one evening. They must have 
had a private room and used pen and ink — do n’t you remember 


342 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


that? Captain Blande joined them afterwards, and another person 
later — a seafaring man. Snrely you recollect now ? 

Solomon Gibson smiled feebly, dry-rubbed his hands, scratched 
the tip of his nose* dubiously, then ^hook his head, and opined he’d 
ask the missis. 

In came Mrs. Gibson at the summons of her lord, and bobbed her 
curtsey to Mr. Will. 

A lively, quick little woman, about 45, with sharp black eyes, 
cheeks ruddy as a well-kept apple, and — eheu ! a tongue. She perked 
her head on one side as Will put his quCvStion, and hardly allowed 
him time to finish before she gave him his answer pat. 

Laws, yes, o’ course she did. Remembered it very well, and so 
did her Sol too when he come to think a bit, only he had n’t got no 
memory no more than a cat. Recollect it, to be sure she did. Why, 
Cap’n Lee and Cap’n Blande come in together and had a bowl of 
punch — rum punch ; the Captain always had rum, the best Jamaiky ; 
and he knew a good glass o’ rum when he had it, the Captain did, 
an’ where to come for it, the only ’ouse in the town where the very 
best was kep — and then Captain Blande went away, an’ the seafar- 
ing man Mr. Will spoke of came in. Yes, sure ; a shabby, ill-looking 
fellow with a large wart on his left cheek, a red nose, and a squint. 
And he was a long time upstairs with the Captain, and then both 
come down together an’ went awa 3 \ 

‘‘Aha!” said Will, glancing at his companion. “This looks like 
business. Do you happen to recollect the date when this took place, 
Mrs. Gibson ? ” 

Date ? Of course she did, she always remembered dates — ah, years 
upon years. Her Sol always used to call her his almanack, he did. 
Never forgot a date in her life. Yes; it was the — stop! when did 
the accident happen ? To be sure, the 24th ; well, it was just a fort- 
night before that, to a da 3 ^ — the 10th of September. 

“The 10 th ?” interposed Josh. “You’re quite sure, Mrs. Gibson, 
that it was the 10th ? ” 

Sure ! She was always sure, certain, positive. Always right 
about dates ; never wrong in her life. Knew it was the 10th because 
it was the day after they had in the new brew, which was the Oth — 
Gibson would find the date on the invoice — and just two days before 
their old barman left, who’d been with them five years, gentlemen, 
five years, and an honester an’ soberer man never lived. Went 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


343 


to Lunnun to better hisself— -a foolish fellow — and the one they ’d got 
now could n’t hold a candle to him an’ would n’t suit, she knew 
though Gibson did n’t want to change again, but change she must 
and change she would till they got one as did suit. That was 
the 12th. 

“Stop a bit,” said Josh. “Never mind about the barman just 
now, Mrs. Gibson. Tell us, if you can remember, what time the 
London gentleman arrived who met Captain Lee?” 

Lunnun gentleman! Oh no, there was no Lunnon gentleman 
met the Captain in their house that evening, she was positive, sure, 
could take her Bible oath upon it there was n’t. Only Cap’n Lee, 
an’ Cap’n Blande, an’ the seafaring man as Mr. Will mentioned; 
nobody else, not a living Christian soul. 

“ Well then at any other time between the 10th and the 24th, did 
Captain Lee meet a gentleman from London here in 3 ^our house. ?” 

Between the 10th and the 24th? No, she did n’t think — Stop! 
no, she was almost positive! no, no, she was quite certain and sure. 
No, most decidedly no. 

“Not, gentlemen,” concluded Mrs. Gibson, impressively, “if you 
was both on you to go down afore me on your blessed knees, could 
I say otherwise than on my sacred word and honor No ! ” 

Which naturally clenched the business, so far as the Rose and 
Crown was concerned. 

Simply with the view ofmakingsure, and not because they expected 
to gain any further information then they had already obtained, the 
self-appointed commission of inquiry made the round of all the 
taverns in Lynn, but gained scanty addition to the stock of know- 
ledge they had just laid in. At one place only did they come upon 
what, at first sight, seemed to be the clue of which they were in 
search. 

Two gentlemen from London, who came down by the coach, had 
slept the night before Lee’s funeral at the Golden Star — an obscure 
little hostelry in the outskirts of the town — and had left the follow- 
ing day. 

Asked for a description of these persons, the Golden Star volun- 
teered the further intelligence that only one of the two was an entire 
stranger. The other gentleman had frequently been seen during the 
last few weeks about Lynn, and in the neighborhood. 

“But do n’t von know his name? ’’ asked Josh. 


344 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


Strange to say for a small publican in a little country town, the 
Golden Star was so incurious as absolutely not to be acquainted 
with the gentleman’s' name. All the landlord did know was that 
he had often seen the gentleman walking about with Captain Lee. 

“Hm! — that’s Captain Blande, Muster Will,” whispered Josh to 
his companion, behind his hand, warily. “ But the other gentleman, 
landlord, the stranger ? Should you know him again if you saw 
him?” 

The Golden Star had as bad a memory for faces as Solomon 
Gibson had for dates. The landlord did n’t think he could recognise 
the g»ntloman if he saw him again. Josh however hazarding an off- 
handed word-sketch of Stark, the sluggish memory of the Golden 
Star was quickened into life. Its proprietor slapped his thigh ex- 
tremely hard, and declared thht protrait was the strange gent’s 
very moral. An expression which — applied to Stark — seems funny. 

Several hours having been consumed in these researches, an inward 
monitor whose promptings few properly disposed persons disregard, 
put in its claims upon attention. In plainer phrase, the friends got 
hungry. 

The Rose and Crown enjoyed an excellent reputation for serving 
up good dinners at short notice, and thither the commission ad- 
journed. Over the aids to good digestion furnished by the after- 
dinner luxuries in which men commonW indulge, the two surveyed 
the matter in hand by the light of the facts they had ascertained. 

Stark’s statement of having met Lee at Lynn on the 16th of Sep- 
tember was clearly false. Had such a meeting occurred, mistake as 
to the date was impossible. It must have been the same as that of 
the letter he had put forward as addressed to him by the sailor, and 
of the codicil. Where one fact was fictitious, others might equally 
be feigned. 

Another circumstance, and this altogether unexpected, had also 
transpired. Stark had been in the town with another person — known 
in the neighborhood — the night before the funeral. Who could that 
other be but Blande, and was there any possible connection between 
Blande and Stark ? These questions opened out so wide a field for 
conjecture that Josh and his 3 ^oung coadjutor felt altogether be- 
wildered. 

“It’s not impossible, sir,” remarked the sergeant-major after a 
thoughtful pause, “though I confess it harn’t occurred to me afore. 


ALBANY STARK*S REVENGE, 


345 


Blit now I comes to reflect, I can call to mind a many curious things 
about Captain Blande as makes me think there ’s wery likely some- 
thin’ in the idee. One thing however we ’re quite sure about. You 
recklect my tellin’ you about a cocky little varmint with a foxy 
beard, who slept at my ’ouse the werry night o’ the accident. Well, 
’t is sartin him an’ the Captain ’s old acquaintances. Now if we can 
diskiver whether i^oung Whiskers is a sarvint o’ Stark’s — an’ he let 
out he was in some legal employ — ’t will go a long way to prove 
some sort of connection atween Stark and Captain Blande. But it’s 
time now as I should tell you every thing I know about the little 
creetur’.” 

Josh proceeded to detail to his companion the events of that 
rainy night upon which he offered hospitality to Nat. This natur- 
ally entailed an account of the manner in which Lee’s pocket-book 
fell into the veteran’s hands — a fact of which Will was not previously 
aware. 

“When I come to look through the papers,” continued Josh, “as 
o’ course I felt no scruple o’ doing arter the Caxj’n’s death, I saw at 
once they contained matters o’ importance to the family. Though 
I had n’t then nat’rally the least notion o’ what came out at the 
reading o’ the Will, I thought I ’d just put ’em by and say nothing 
about ’em till we found out who was entitled to their possession. 
But arter that extraordinary Statement o’ Captain Lee’s I’m in 
worse confusion than ever. So I’ll just hand ’em over to you. Mus- 
ter Will as the nephew o’ the deceased, and you must do with ’em 
what you and your good mother thinks best.” 

Josh therewith produced the pocket-book and formally tendered 
it to his young companion. 

“There’s one thing in partic’lar I’d like to call your attention to,” 
the Oracle went on. “You ’ll recklect that very curious story Mrs. 
Lee told about the finding o’ Miss Guenever ah’ my axing of you 
whether you thought it was true. Well, just look at this ’ere mem " 
randum, in Cap’n Lee’s own handwriting. You’ll see then what 
my reason was.” 

Will ^ok the papers selected by Josh from the mass of documents 
the pocket-book contained, and read it attentively. When he had 
finished, a strange light darted across his face. 

“One of the accounts is false, of course,” he exclaimed. “But de- 
pend upon it this is the true one. The depositions appended prove 


3i6 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE, 


it beyond a doubt. Besides, I fancy I know where to get corrobor- 
ative evidence. Oh, if it should turn out as I suspect, what happi- 
ness for us all! 

“Deuced glad to hear it, Muster Will,” interrupted Josh, heartily. 

T is well some good should come to somebody out of all this 
business, for I’m sure there ’’s disgrace enough a’ready. Now, here’s 
another matter I’d like you to look at. We’ve all been a-puzzlin’ 
our brains about that ere mysterious Don Ramon Vesillas, to whom 
the Cap’n left best part of his property by the codicil in partial 
atonement of a great wrong. Well, this paper tells all about who 
Don Ramon Vesillas was.” 

“Indeed 1 give it here, my friend. There’s a chance of clearing up 
the mystery at last.” 

Eagerly seizing the paper handed to him by Josh, Will Blythe 
read aloud the contents of the printed slip, that had so powerfully 
excited Nat’s interest the night of his sojourn under the veteran’s 
roof. 


CHAPTER LII. 


THE STORY OF DON RAMON VESILLAS. 

The contents of the old newspaper cutting Will Blythe read aloud 
were these : 

“Bow Street: A hard Case.— Application was made to the 
sitting magistrate this morning for advice by a tall, gentlemanly- 
looking Spaniard, apparently about 50. Not being conversant with 
English, the applicant was accompanied by an interpreter and a 
solicitor. The latter explained the case. 

“It appeared that the applicant, Don Ramon Vesillas, a Spanish 
planter in Cuba, had arrived in town about a month ago, accom- 
panied by his daughter, Inez. His object in visiting the metropolis 
was twofold ; first, to marry his daughter to Mr. Francis Rivers, an 
English merchant to whom she had been betrothed the previous 
year in Cuba, and secondly, to dispose of a large quantity of sugar 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


347 


and cotton, the produce of his plantation. The produce had been 
shipped on board an English merchantman, the same vessel which 
had conveyed Don Ramon and his daughter to England. 

“On board the vessel the planter and Donna Inez had met with 
particular attention from one of the officers, the fourth mate, named 
Grey. This young man, who spoke Spanish fluently, not only 
showed Don Ramon much civility on board the ship, but after land- 
ing, the Don finding that Mr. Rivers had been unexpectedly obliged 
to leave on business for Smyrna the previous week, had assisted the 
planter in disposing of his produce to advantage. Further than this, 
the mate, being well acquainted with the metropolis, had escorted 
his friends about town and shown them the lions. 

“The stay of Mr. Rivers at Smyrna had been prolonged beyond 
the period he originally expected to be absent, but letters had been 
received by the last mail stating that he was now on his way home. 
Not having any connections among English bankers, Don Ramon 
had preferred keeping the money received from the sale of his cargo 
— amounting to rather over £5,000 — in his own possession. It was 
his intention to have handed it to Mr. Rivers upon the marriage day 
as his daughter’s dowry. Meantime he had placed the sum, con- 
sisting of notes and bank-bills, in a tin case he always carried about 
him. 

“Three days ago Don Ramon and his daughter had been out as 
usual with their sailor friend, and in the evening the three went 
together to the theatre. After the performance they supped at the 
hotel where the Spanish gentleman had put up. Being very merry 
and in good spirits, the two men drank an unusual quantity of wine, 
Don Ramon, urged on by the sailor, certainly to excess, for he was 
carried off unconscious to bed. 

“Next morning, to the Don’s extreme astonishment, Donna Inez 
was nowhere to be found. Nobody in the hotel was able to account 
for her absence. Shortly after her father’s retirement the previous 
night, the sailor had left. Donna Inez had accompanied him to the 
door, and, as one of the chambermaids declared, they had^been seen 
to embrace at parting. This statement lighting up a suspicion in 
Don Ramon’s mind, he had examined the tin case where he kept his 
money, but found that the £5,000 had disappeared as well as his 
child. 

“Acting upon the advice of the landlord of the hotel, the Spanish 


348 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


gentleman placed his case in the hands of Mr. Wynyard,the solicitor 
now making application to the magistrate. Persevering and 
judicious inquiry had brought out the fact that on the previous day 
the mate Grey had been married by license to Donna Inez at St. 
Bride’s Church, Fleet Street, but all trace of the runaway couple 
vanished at the doors. As there could be no doubt that it was at 
the instigation of Grey that the money had been abstracted, Mr. 
Wynyard, on behalf of Don Ramon, now applied to the magistrate 
to issue his warrant for the sailor’s apprehension. 

Magistrate— It is a very serious matter, Mr. Wynyard. Is Don 
Ramon fully aware of the consequences of a conviction ? He should 
remember that the young man, now his daughter’s husband, may 
be found guilty of a capital offence. 

‘‘After consultation with his client, Mr. Wynyard replied that Don 
Ramon’s object was not so much the punishment of Grey as the 
recovery of his property. As for Donna Inez, she must take the con- 
sequences other undutiful folly. Don Ramon entirely disowned and 
cast her off. 

Magistrate. — With that of course I can have nothing to do. My 
duty is simply to point out that unless j'ou are prepared with 
evidence to show that Grey took the money, Don Ramon may be 
placed in a most painful position. I may be obliged to bind him 
over to prosecute his own child. 

“Mr. Wynyard. — My client is of course not prepared to go that 
length. Am I tounderstand your worshipcan afford us no redress? 

Magistrate. — I do not say that, but I think you should well con 
sider the possible results. Perhaps the object can be eflfected in 
another way. What is the young lady’s age ? 

“Mr. Wynyard.— ]\xst seventeen, your worship? 

“Mag/strate.— Well, I can grant 3^ou a warrant against Grey for 
the abduction of a minor. If he is taken into custody, it will be for 
you to see whether you will also prefer a charge of perjury against 
him in taking out the license. But I tell yo.u frankly, under the 
circumstances, I doubt extremely whether the charge of abstracting 
the money can be made good. 

“The solicitor conferred in a low voice for some time with his 
client, through the interpreter, and ultimately announced that he 
would take a warrant for abduction, which was issued accordingly. 
Two of the ablest runners were placed at Mr. Wyiiyard’s disposal. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


349 


and the party at once left the court to concert measures for the execu- 
tion of the warrant. The apprehension of Grey is considered by the 
police extremeW doubtful.” 

Thus far the verbose and long-winded reporter at Bow Street 
police-court in 1812. Fifty years have at an 3 ^ rate improved this 
link in the everlasting chain in brevity and conciseness, if in nothing 
else. Had this cutting been all the information about the elopement 
of the sailor Grey with Inez Yesillas that Ralph Lee’s pocket-book 
contained, it would have been just sufficient to tantalize the reader 
without acquainting him with the conclusion of the drama, whose 
opening scene has just been detailed. But it was not all. Some 
person had evidently taken considerable pains to collect every scrap 
of news bearing upon the matter published at the time. 

Pasted on to the police report were various items with sen- 
sational headings of the period, showing that some industrious 
penny-a-liner had taken the case in hand, and was making it the 
vehicle to add to his scanty income. Item the first ran thus • 

“Elopement of the Spanish Planter’s Daughter, and Abduc- 
tion OF £5,000. — We understand that Painter and Goad, the two 
intelligent officers who have this case in hand, have not yet been able 
to lay hands upon the runawa}^ couple. It is thought probable they 
have quitted the metropolis, and are now in hiding in the country, 
waiting until Don Ramon shall have grown tired of the pursuit and 
have returned to Cuba. Full descriptions of the delinquents have 
been circulated in all the chief towns and posted up at the outports, 
in case Grey and Donna Inez should attempt to leave the kingdom. 
Mr. Francis Rivers, the betrothed of the Spanish lady, has returned 
from Smyrna, and has offered a reward of £100 for the apprehension 
of Grey, dead or alive.” 

Item No. 2 carried the story a stage further: 

“The Late Mysterious Elopement and Robbery.— A clue 
has been found to the whereabouts of the sailor Grey and his Spanish 
bride. Immediately after the marriage, it appears that two persons 
in every way answering to the description of the fugitives went by 
the night mail to Bristol, whence they embarked two days after- 
wards in the packet for Dublin. After a short stay in the Irish 
metropolis, they returned by steamer to Liverpool, whence they 
posted to Scotland. Painter is searching for the runaways at Edin- 
burgh, while Goad, accompanied by Mr. Francis Rivers, has set off 


350 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


for the north. It is thought they may have taken refuge in the 
Orkneys.” 

Item the third knocked all this ingenious theory ruthlessly upon 
the head : 

‘‘Hoax of the Police in Pursuit of the Runaway Couple:— 
The officers in pursuit of the sailor Gre3^ and the Spanish lady with 
whom he eloped, have come up with the persons of whom they were 
in chase at John o’ Groat’s, the extreme northern point of Scotland. 
Unfortunately they turn out not to be the right parties. When 
arrested, the gentleman was at once able, from papers in his posses- 
sion, to establish his identity' as Count Krzcyiiowpolski, a Polish 
nobleman upon his wedding tour, and Mr. Rivers of course im- 
mediately perceived that the Countess was not the lady of whom he 
was in quest. After numerous apologies, which the distinguished 
foreigners received with extreme amiability, the Count and his lad}^ 
were released from durance vile. All traces of the real Simon Pure 
are now entirely lost. It is supposed the fugitives must have 
succeeded in getting out of the country’ with their booty before the 
alarm was given. In the course of this wild goose chase, the runners 
and Mr. Rivers have already traveled upwards of a thousand miles, 
and all in vain.” 

Item the fourth wound up the business, showing that if, in these 
da vs of electric telegraphs and railroads, our astute detectives 
o casionally fail to secure their man, the intelligent officers in the 
good old times when George the Third was King can hardly be cen- 
sured for not being more sharp-sighted than the sue essors. 

‘‘Denouement of the late Mysterious Elopement and Rob- 
bery. Discovery and Confession of Donna Inez Grey.— The ex- 
traordinary elopement of the Spanish planter’s daughter with the 
sailor Grey that has so long interested and excited the town is at 
last cleared up. The lady has voluntarily come forward, and made 
full confession of all that took place. P'roni her account however it 
appears that Grey in person abstracted the tin case containing her 
father’s property, she not even being aware of the robbery at the 
time. The crime was probably committed while Don Ramon was 
being conveyed to bed in a state of intoxication the night before the 
elopement. Gre^^ lived with his young wife just one week after the 
marriage, the newly wedded pair never leaving town during that 
period. At the end of that time he abandoned her without a word 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


351 


of excuse or explanation, and she has not heard of or from him since. 
Ashamed to return to her father, she hesitated until her means were 
completely exhausted, and she had no further resource. We under- 
stand that Don Ramon is seriously ill from the distress of mind and 
anxiety he has lately undergone.** 

Item the last was very brief, but terribly clear. Cutout from the 
obituary notices in a morning newspaper were the lines: 

“At the Royal Hotel, Covent Garden, yesterday morning, Don 
Ramon Yesillas, planter, aged 53, of the island of Cuba, West Indies, 
from brain fever induced by long-continued anxiety and menta^ 
distress.** 

With this ghastly item the curtain dropped. What became of the 
foolish, forsaken young wife, deprived by this last catastrophe of her 
natural protector; how she contrived to eke out a scanty livelihood 
in the great, strange wilderness, peopled by human beings whose 
tongue she could not understand even when it spoke the words of 
kindness; whether, after struggling for a season that heart-breaking 
and cruel struggle so many have tried to win, and tried in vain, she 
succumbed at last beneath the burden of her sorrows— of all these 
things the record never said one word. 

Will Blythe and Josh, reading this dolorous tragedy after the 
lapse of a quarter of a century, could not repress a shudder of mourn- 
ful sympathy as they thought what might have been this unhappy 
creature*s fate. 

Practical Josh was the first of the two to come back to the stem 
realities apparently opening out before them. 

“Puttin* these *ere facts an* the Cap’n*s Statement, will an* 
codicil all together, Muster Will, we seems to get hold of a tolerably 
connected story. It *s clear there was such a man as Don Ramon 
Yesillas once, and so far the codicil don’t seem so impossible as we 
thought. On the other hand, it *s clear agin that Stark, so far as 
we can diskiver, was not in Lynn till the day afore the funeral an* 
did n’t have the interview with the Cay’n he says he had. Now if 
that can be proved, the codicil’s evidently false. Ain’t that your 
view ? ** 

“Precisely. But there’s a further means of testing Stark’s asser- 
tion you don’t seem to have thought of. Rich. What do the supposed 
witnesses to the codicil say? Will Captain Blande and this man 


352 


ALBANY STARKS REVENGE, 


Riggs testify to the signatures put forward as theirs being really 
genuine? That will be the point to ascertain.” 

“So ’t will, sir. You ’ve hit the right nail on the head,” exclaimed 
the admiring Oracle, filled with secret envy at Will’s having struck 
out an idea that had never occurred to himself “ But where are 
they to be found, eh? That’s the rub. I don’t know Captain 
Blande’s town address, do you?” 

Will shook his head. 

“And there ain’t no time to be lost,” continued Josh, pitilessly 
following up his advantage. “Stark ain’t the kind o’ chap to let 
the grass grow under his feet. He ’s got possession o’ The Towers 
a’ ready; in a week or so I dessay he ’ll ha’ proved the will an’ 
collared the money, and what chance ’ll anybody stand then ? I have 
heerd o’ gettin’ butter out of a dog’s mouth, to be sure,” concluded 
Josh rather sarcastically, “but I never seed the trick done yet, an’ I 
should n’t like to tr3^” 

“Tell you what it is. Rich,” returned Will frankly. “This thing’s 
getting beyond our depth. That ’s the simple truth. It ’s useless 
our puzzling any longer about what we can’t understand. If any 
one can see a way out of the wood, ’t is my mother. She ’s the 
clearest-headed person I ever knew. Come you up to the Grange 
to-morrow forenoon, aad we ’ll go into all the facts together and see 
if we can’t come to some sort of decision.” 

With this understanding the members of the commission went 
their several ways. 


CHAPTER LIII. 

A GRAND PALAVER. 

The great family council, to discuss the new facts brought out 
by the discovery of the old newspaper cutting and the sequel to the 
story furnished by the by-gone penny-a-liner’s industry, took place 
the ensuing forenoon at the Grange. Mrs. Lee — as to avoid con- 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE, 


353 


fusion I shall continue to call her— was so far recovered as to be able 
to join the remainder of the family. Josh was also present. 

“ Before I read the remarkable paper Rich and I discovered yester- 
day,” said Will, elected by common consent to open the proceedings, 
“it ’s only right I should say that its contents display my uncle in a 
far more unfavorable light than we have seen him yet. Still, I think 
everybody will agree with me that, in the position the affair has 
assumed, it ’s only right we should avail ourselves of every possible 
means at our command to get at the truth. We must n’t shrink 
from inquiry because the facts we discover are unpleasant, or, to be 
plain, disgraceful. After all, none of us have done aught we need 
blush for, and the shame must just lie at the doors of those who 
have.” 

With this short prelude. Will plunged at once in to the narrative 
you and I already know. It will easily be supposed that it produced 
a strong impression upon all his hearers. To Alice Mayne and his 
mother; in especial, it came like a revelation ; for, as you will not 
fail to perceive, it took up and completed the story told by the girl 
to her disabled protectress very shortly after the former came to live 
at the Grange. These two had no difficulty in identifying the Donna 
Inez Yesillas of the newspaper extract — forsaken by her heartless 
husband of a week and deprived of all protection by her father’s 
death — with silent and gentle Senora Grey who, years afterward, 
came to lodge with her boy Walter at the boarding-house Mrs. 
Ma3me set up. How she had contrived to exist in the interval none 
could tell. It is probable, however, that in that comparatively 
primitive time, when steam was in its infancy and sewing-machines 
as yet had no being, she contrived to earn a more tolerable liveli- 
hood with her needle than she could have done now. 

Conjecture is useless where the bases of proof are deficient. It is 
enough for our purpose to know that, by some means or other, the 
deserted wife did manage to subsist, to feed and clothe and even 
scantily educate her boy, and was ultimately led to seek a refuge 
with those kindly souls in whose arms she drew her latest breath. 

Respect for Annis, combined with some lingering tenderness for 
the man whose early sins were now coming in so extraordinary a 
manner to light, restrained Guenever and Mrs. Lee from commenting 
upon Ralph Lee,s treatment of the loving girl whom he had solemnly 
sworn to protect and cherish until death did them part. But Alice 


354 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


Mayne was influenced by no such considerations. She had never 
known Ralph in life, and everything she learned of him now that he 
was dead only inspired her with horror and detestation of his 
memory. 

“So that was the story of my poor Senora Grey! ’’ exclaimed the 
warm-hearted girl. How sad, how desolate! But what a wicked 
monster must the man have been who left her to pine out all her life 
in solitude and misery ! How terribly hard and cruel! It’s hardly 
credible that such atrocity could be perpetrated.” 

“Oh hush, my dear, hush! ’’cried Annis, vrhose furrowed cheeks 
were wet with tears .she vainly tried to repress. “ Bad as he was, 
remember Ralph was my brother — ever good and kind to me ” 

“ Forgive me, I forgot,” exclaimed Alice, penitently. “ But indeed 
I could not help being carried away, dear Mrs. Blythe. I loved and 
always pitied that poor gentle Senora Grey.” 

“As I loved Ralph, my dear,” returned Annis. “As, notwith- 
standing all his sins and follies, I cannot help loving his memory 
still. But it is my turn to take up the story now. I know better 
than all those foolish newspapers did, where Ralph went when he 
forsook his poor young wife. I know what became of at least the 
greater part of the money he took from the Spanish planter. He 
brought it here — to me! ” 

After a short pause, to recover composure, Annis went on to give 
the history of her brother’s visit to Paston in April, 1812, when we 
made their acquaintance first. She told the ruse by which he induced 
her to accept the sum he left in her keeping, upon the pretext of his 
having gained it as a prize in the lottery. She proceeded to narrate 
the circumstances of his affray with Farmer Crowe, the pursuit by 
and mishap of that worthy and her brother’s ultimate escape. She 
told of Ralph’s long absence from England, of the events attending 
his return, the accident to herself, the bitterness between the brothers- 
in-law, and so brought down the detail of the family history to the 
time when her hearers xould complete it from their own knowledge. 

When the questions and replies, the wonder and the sympathy to 
which the singular narrative gave rise, had to a certain extent been 
exhausted and had died away. Will recalled attention to the immedi- 
ate object of their present meeting. 

“We know now,” he said, “a great deal more about the family 
history than we ever knew before. From my uncle’s Statement and 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


355 


my mother’s narrative, coupled with what, by a most wonderful co- 
incidence, Miss Mayne has already been able to tell us, I suppose 
we have about as full an account of my uncle’s extraordinary career 
as we are ever likely to get. Of course I don’t mean to say we have 
learned everything. We don’t know, for instance, what he was 
doing from the time he abandoned his poor young wife in London 

until he appeared in Jamaica about . When was it you first made 

his acquaintance, Mrs. Lee?” 

“In the spring of 1815, if I am not mistaken,” was the reply. 
”Yes, it must have been either spring or summer — at any rate, it 
was the Waterloo year, I know. We were married in April, ’16, at 
Kingston.” 

‘‘And what were his circumstances at that time, can you recol- 
lect?” 

“I should imagine, very good. He was introduced to my father 
as the captain of a merchantman, his own property, trading to 
China and the East.” 

” Did he seem to have money at command ? ” 

“Amply. So much so that I remember hearing my father say he 
was under the greatest obligations to Captain Lee for advances to 
pay off the mortgage on Rockhills. I have often thought since that 
was his principal motive for advocating the match.” 

Will’s eyes consulted his mother’s. They asked her opinion so 
evidently that she was the next to speak. 

“I see your difficulty, my boy,” she observed. “Remembering 
that Ralph left me with the greater part of the sum he took from 
the Spanish gentleman, you are at a loss to see where he obtained 
the means to purchase and fit out his ship.” 

“That’s just the point,” returned Will. “There are a thousand 
pounds unaccounted for, and a gap of three years to fill up. I don’t pro- 
fess to know much about trading to the East and all that sort of thing, 
but I don’t think a thousand would go very far. Then there’s the 
time. What was my uncle doing from 1812 do 1815? I don’t see 
my way through that difficulty, at all.” 

“Mightn’t we explain it thus?” asked Annis. “Ralph was a 
good sailor, we know, whatever his other failings. He was young 
then — brave, intelligent, resolute, and daring. Isn’t it just possible 
lie might have entered the American service during that unaccount- 


356 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


ed-for time, and have made prize-money? We were at war with the 
United States then, 3^ou ’ll reeollect.” 

“By Jove, mother! ’’ cried Will exulthigly. “I do believe you’ve 
hit it. Nothing more likely, and that would account for all. But 

then — confound it! — that would make him out even worse than we 

# 

know he was. Why, he must have been a traitor, fighting against 
his own country. I hope to Heaven he never sank so low as that ! ’’ 

Annis shook her head mournfullj^ “I’m afraid we must n’t be 
too sanguine. Ralph was always unscrupulous. The tie of country 
would have had little weight with him.” 

You see how near this clear-sighted woman came to the truth. 
It is not to be wondered at that she should not approach it more 
closely, for the reality was a depth of baseness and degradation 
these simple, true-hearted souls could never have surmised. 

“After all” cried Will, briskly, “this is n’t a point we need dwell 
upon. As we do n’t and can’t know positively what was the history 
of those mysterious three years, we’ll hope at least they were passed in 
honest hard work. I fancy we’ve ascertained now jDretty much all 
we want upon the subject of Uncle Ralph’s early life. Let ’s come at 
once to the question of the will. That part of the business. Rich, I 
leave to you.” 

Thus appealed to, the Oracle proceeded to hold forth. He showed 
that as the date of the codicil had been clearly ascertained to be in- 
correct, the question might fairly arise whether Stark met Lee at all, 
as if not, the codicil was a forgery. 

“Then how do you account for my uncle’s signature being- wit- 
nessed by Captain Blande and this Riggs?” asked Will, “Do you 
think their names are forgeries too ? ” 

“If Stark’s bad enough to do the one part, Muster Will,” replied 
Josh, “ be very sure he would n’t stick at t’ other. In course, that ’s 
one o’ the points that ’ll have to be ascertained. The thing stands 
this way. Stark gives one account o’ the way the will was made. 
Well, we’ve a’ready found out part o’ that account ain’t true. Let’s 
go on and examine the rest. I ’m no lawyer, but it strikes me ’tain’t 
needful for us to prove /zow a chap commits a fraud, provided we 
can show that a fraud has really been eommitted. Not but what, 
for my part, I ’ve got an idea how the thing may have been done, 
tho’ o’ course I can’t answer for my idea being right.” 

“ Wellj what do you fancy was the plan ? ” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


357 


•‘Just this. By some means or other, Stark knew o’ what had 
taken place in the family very soon after it happened. Then, he sent 
somebody down to look for the will, find it, and bring it up to him. 
When ’t was altered, that’s to say, when the codicil was added, he 
got that same party to go and put it backagain where it was found. 
That’s my idea, and till it’s proved positive as I’m teetotally 
wrong, I shall continner to think I’m pretty near the mark.” 

Josh’s hypothesis was received with evident marks of incredulity 
by nearly all. Even quiet Annis could hardly forbear a smile. Will 
was particularly loud in repudiating all notion of such a proceeding 
being possible, ^nd upon Josh calmly asking why, retorted in some 
heat with a scornful laugh. 

“Laugh away, Muster Will and ladies all,” returned the old man, 
quietly. “Them as laughs last, laugh loudest, m3^ old grandmother 
used to say. Time ’ll show whether I ’m as big a fool as you take 
me for. Laugh away.” 

“Not so. Rich,” chimed in Annis, anxious to throw oil upon the 
waters. You must n’t be vexed with my young Hotspur here. Be 
assured we feel deeply grateful for the very kind and valuable assis- 
tance you have rendered us already, and shall be most glad to have 
any further suggestions you can give. Only I think you ’ll admit your 
supposition to be rather strange.” 

“ Strange or not. Madam Blythe, take my word for ’t ’t is n’t far 
off the truth. Strange and clever men, like this ere Stark, don’t run 
in the beaten track, like other folk. You’ll allays find them taking 
some unusual road, an’ jist for that very reason getting safer to their 
object. ’Tis n’t because my idee’s a strange one that it shouldn’t 
be correct.” 

There was so much sound sense, as well as deep knowledge o^ 
the world, in this remark that it made a strong impression upon 
Annis. It set her thinking more seriously than she had done yet 
whether Josh’s theory was after all altogether so absurd. 

“There’s one thing you forget. Rich,” she said. “ The place where 
the will was deposited. None but three members of the family and 
Mr. Crosthwaite knew how to unclose the chest.” 

“ Except the party as made it,” retorted the Oracle. “.How can 
we tell Stark did n’t get the secret from him? Prove that he did, 
and 3^ou ’re a long step on the road as to the way the will might ha’ 
been tampered with,” 


358 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


‘‘By Jove, there’s something in that, Rich after all,” cried Will. 
“1 begin to see what you ’re driving at now, old boy. It ’s not such 
an impossible notion as I thought.” 

“There’s a many things seems impossible until we get told how 
to do ’em. Muster Will,” returned Josh with a tone of calm superior- 
ity. I do n’t say positive as how I’m right, but the idee’s worth 
looking into surely.” 

Much further conversation ensued, into which it would be tedious 
to enter here. Finally, all agreed that in a matter of such import- 
tance and delicacy, it was safest to act under legal advice. Josh and 
Will engaged to go up to London that same afternoon, to lay the 
whole case in all its bearings before Mr. Crosthwaite, and be finally 
guided by such counsel as he might give. 


CHAPTER LIV. 

AFTER MANY DAYS. 

The decision just noted being unanimously agreed upon. Will 
Blythe, as chairman of the meeting, again held forth : 

“After all the painful business we have had to consider, it ’s an im- 
mense relief to turn to a subject which, unless I ’m greatly mistaken, 
will prove to all of us a source of unmixed joy. You ’ll all recollect 
the very singular and romantic account Mrs. Lee gave of the man- 
ner in which Uncle Ralph first met with one whom, I need hardly 
say, all who know her greatly admire and respect. 

“Now I must begin by saying that of course there’s not the faint- 
est reason to suppose that, in giving that account, my dear aunt 
stated anything but what she felt convinced was the precise and 
exact truth. Yet, for all that, circumstances have come to the 
knowledge of Rich and mj^self that induce us to believe the story 

altogether incorrect. In short ” 

An unrestrainable cry of surprise, bursting simultaneously from 
all the female part of his audience, checked Will’s eloquence at the 
point when it could least be dispensed with. Alice and Guenever, 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGK. 


359 


sitting side by side, gazed into each other’s face with a kind of in- 
tuitive suspicion of what was still to come. The Oracle looked 
stolidly and proudly mysterious. Although as much in the dark as 
liis neighbors, he seemed to feel it behooved him to appear particu- 
larly sagacious. Josh is not the first man who has acquired a vast 
reputation for wisdom by simply holding his tongue and looking 
knowing. 

“ in short,” continued Will, ‘‘we feel persuaded that, for reasons 

that will presently appear, Uncle Ralph designedly kept from my 
aunt the true circumstances connected with the discovery, and so 
withheld a clew to Guenever’s parentage that has now come to 
light.” 

A chorus of feminine voiees — not unanimous,by any means; each, 
upon the conty^ry, sounding a different note — hereupon ensued. 
Ever^^body wanted to know the facts sooner than, by any natural 
process, they could possibly be told. An irregularity which produced 
a mild remonstrance from Will, and a good-humored attempt to 
silence Babel. 

“Now, look hcre,”hb declared. “You must let me tell my story m 3 ' 
own way, or we shall get into all sorts of confusion. If wc do n’t 
begin at the beginning ” 

“Yes, yes, to be sure; go on, Mr. William,” from Alice Mayne. 
“Make haste, there’s a deaf fellow,” from Guenever. “Do n’t keep 
us in suspense, my boy,” from Annis, effectually stopped Will’s 
mouth. 

“Now everybody be very good and quiet and do n’t say a single 
word,” enjoined Guenever. “Now, Will.” 

“When my aunt told us about Guenever’s parents having been 
massacred by the Maroons,” continued Will, “she no doubt repeated 
just what she had heard from Uncle Ralph. We, knowing no better, 
of course accepted the story in perfect good faith, thinking it vcr 3 ' 
singular, but not impossible. Rich, however had a better reason 
for doubting its accuracy. In my uncle’s pocket-book, where we 
found the newspaper cuttings telling the Spanish planter’s story, he 
had already come upon an account in Uncle Ralph’s handwriting 
of the real facts attending Guenever’s discovery. Here it is : 

“‘Extract from the Log of the Seamew, Aprie 19, 1820.-— 
At six bells, ship bearing N. W. by W. lat. 45 N. long. 49 W. lookout 
sighted small boat hoisting pea-jacket on oar as signal of distress. 


360 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE, 


Bore down, and found boat to contain four adults and one child — a 
girl — living, with five male corpses. Provisions and water exhausted, 
survivors much emaciated and weak for want of food. Hoisted 
living and dead on board ship, abandoned boat, and bore away for 
home. 

“That is the first extract,” continued Will. “Next comes another, 
three days later: 

“April 22, 1820.— Spoke H. M. brig Blunderbuss, four days out, 
from Jamaica for Plymouth, with mails. Captain consented to 
give four adults picked up at sea 19th inst. free passage to England ; 
also to take charge of effects found upon five corpses picked up same 
occasion, to hand to consignees of vessel for delivery to friends de- 
ceased. Sent passengers and effects on board, and parted company 
with Blunderbuss, lat. 16 N. long. 72 W.’ 

“Next come the depositions of two of the rescued persons sent 
home by the Blunderbuss,^' said Will. “They are only of interest as 
conveying certain facts, which I ’ll condense. The boat picked up by 
the Seamew belonged to the Mary Cavendish, from Boston for 
Liverpool, which left harbor on the 2nd of April. When tenda 3 ^s out 
the ship caught fire in the night, and some of the passengers and 
crew took to the boats. The rest were lost with the ship. The boat 
found by the Seamew had been tossing about without compass or 
provisions ever since. 

“The most important statement of all however is conveyed in a 
note appended by Uncle Ralph to these depOvSitions. It says: ‘ The 
child picked up at sea clung to the body of one of the dead men we 
took on board, declaring it was her father. Examing his effects, I 
found on his person notes and bank-bills to the amount of £6,000. 
Being at that time in want of ready money, I retained the sum and 
carried the child home, when I handed her over to Mrs. Lee with a 
different story as to the time and place of her discovery. Wife 
adopted the child, calling her Guenever. Mem.: to repay the money 
when she comes of age or marries. 

“So far, you see,” concluded Will, “we have succeeded in identify- 
ing Guenever as the child on board the boat picked up by the Sea- 
mew, and we can now understand the bequest of £6,000 to her in 
Uncle Ralph’s will, as the payment of a dept. The next point to 
be ascertained is the matter of her parentage, and here 1 hope to be 
as successful as in the first respect.” 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE, 


361 


During this recital the eyes of all had been bent with the most 
eager interest upon the speaker’s face. Yet none of those present, 
not even Guenever, who might naturally have been supposed the 
most deeply absorbed, had shown such profound emotion as Alice 
Mayne. With her head slightly bent forward, and her hand in- 
voluntarily raised as if to entreat perfect silence, her slightly parted 
lips seemed to anticipate and drink in every word even before it was 
uttered. A sculptor in search of an idea for a statue of Expectation 
might have found in her his model. 

A low cry broke from her as Will Blythe paused for a moment’s 
breath. 

“Hush, hush!” she entreated. “Let no one speak. Oh, Mr. 
William, pray, pray continue! ” 

“ When my aunt gave us her version of the story, the other day,” 
Will went on, “she spoke of a necklace that was round Guenever’s 
throat at the time that she was found. A coral necklace, she said, 
with a large gold clasp. It struck me at the time that I had seen a 
similar ornament to that in the hands of Miss Mayne. Would you 
kindly fetch it a moment ? ” he asked of Alice. “ I think it will help 
us out in our inquir3^” 

She had hurried out of the room, and was back again, panting 
with her haste, breathless with excitement, almost before he had 
time to conclude. 

“I ask you to lend me j^or/r necklace, if you ’ll remember,” Will 
went on, addressing Guenever. “Here it is. Now let us compare 
the two.” 

Trembling with eager haste, though hardly knowing why, they 
laid the trinkets side by side upon the table, and examined them 
closely. The similarity was so complete that an impartial observer 
could hardly distinguish them apart. 

“Very much alike, are they not ? ” asked Will with a triumphant 
smile. “ But I found out another peculiarity in Guenever’s, which 
maA^ be in yours as well. Miss Mayne, if you look.” 

Pressing a spring at the side of the large clasp, the flat plate in 
front started up, and disclosed two locks of diflerent colored hair 
enwreathed, surrounding a white cornelian surface, upon which was 
engraved in minute but distinct letters the name “Georgina.” 

Treated similarly, the clasp of the other necklace flew open and 
disclosed the word “Alice.” 


362 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


A cry of wonder and delight burst from the lips of Alice Mayne — 
the voice of Nature long pent tip within her breast and breaking 
down the barriers imposed by custom and restraint. She turned to 
Guenever, no less excited than herself at this wonderful discovery 
and was upon the point of rushing into her outstretched arms when 
she was stayed by Will’s detaining hand. 

“ One moment — half a second only ! ” he implored. Let me finish. 

Turning over the leaf of the deposition to which my uncle had 
attached his note, I found these words: ^The name of the person 
whom the child we have called Guenever claimed as her father, I 
found, from other letters upon the body, to be Julian Mayne! ” 
With a skriek where joy and ecstasy, wonder, delight, and long- 
sought. ardent affection mingled in one absorbing, indescribable 
heartburst, the two girls rushed together with a mighty cry. 

The voices of the re-united orphans went up to Heaven in the 
thrilling utterance of their pure young lips : 

“ Oh, sister, darling sister I Found at last ! ” 


CHAPTER LV. 

RETROSPECTIVE. 

We must return, for a few minutes, to Oliver Blande’s proceed- 
ings upon the night of the catastrophe. 

When he had mastered the first sensation of horror — natural 
even to the most callous — at so appalling an event, his practical, 
self-seeking mind at once began to consider how it might best be 
turned to his own advantage. From one great danger he was on a 
sudden freed. Lee’s death relieved him from all fears of the schemes 
that daring, unscrupulous spirit might concoct. It left him also at 
liberty to execute the plan he carried out that same night, with 
Billy’s assistance, of searching the seaman’s chest. 

So far, two successes were gained. But, not being then aware 
what would result from that examination, it became sound policy to 
consider what more he might effect. For, supposing Lee to have 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


363 


told the truth when he said the chest merely contained valuable 
family papers, those documents — be they what they might — could in 
any case only be turned to account by Stark. In his own hands 
they could possess none but secondary value. They might assist 
him to increase his reputation for ability in the eyes of his employ'd', 
but no further. And, as we know, Oliver’s ambition now far over- 
leaped these humble bounds. 

Lee’s death relieved him of a pressing danger. Yes; but it also 
deprived him of the hope his vanity and strong belief in his own 
powers had never ceased to entertain. The dead man tossing 
helplessly among the jagged rocks below the cliff could no longer aid 
Oliver in releasing himself from Stark. And the iron had of late bitten 
so deeply, galled so grievously, that this desire had grown to be the 
strongest, the most engrossing he had ever known. 

“Looked at in this light,” muttered the young man moodily as he 
slowly walked towards The Towers in the grey of the evening, “ I 
almost fear it’s the worst that could have happened. Better he had 
continued to live and scheme and plot; better I had run daihg hourly 
risks than there should have come so utter and miserable a collapse. 
The risks could not have been extreme. Fear for his own safet\' — 
dread of the evidence I could have brought against him through 
Riggs — would have made him stay his hand. Then he must have 
agreed to a compromise, and the day would have been won. But 
now!” 

Notwithstanding its excitements and its fears the life of ease and 
luxury he had lately passed in the well-appointed household at The 
Towers — far superior to anything he had ever previously known — had 
taken powerful hold upon his sensuous nature. He revelled in the 
tokens of wealth and opulence by which the sailor chose to be 
surrounded. To lie softly and to live well, to have the attendanee 
of servants whenever he desired, to walk through handsomelj^- 
furnished rooms and feel his foot sink into the soft, rich pile of velvet 
carpets, to hold his host’s horses and his host’s guns, his host’s’ 
yacht, and his host’s library, at command — to enjoy, in short, all the 
means and appliances with which wealth renders life easy and plea- 
sant — was to a man of Olivers temperament the most dei^'ralizing 
influence that ceuld have been exerted. 

He contrasted this desirable existence with the career he had 
previously run, and a bitter smile curled his lip at the absurdity of 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


the comparison. He recalled the mean shifts, the petty aims, the 
low, groveling stratagems by which, at his employer’s will, he had 
been forced to bring some heedless, foolish votary of so-called 
Pleasure into the law3'er’s power, and he positively loathed and 
despised himself when he remembered the contemptible tricks to 
which he had descended, and the freqtient insults to which, in their 
exercise, he had been exposed. 

Understand me well. It was not repentance for by .gone evil- 
doings Oliver then felt ; not pity for the many victims he had drawn 
into the net; not remorse for the sorrow of heart-stricken mothers, 
sisters, and wives writhing under the disgrace and folly of the weak 
poltroons in whom they had placed their trust, and garnered up the 
wealth of their love. It was not his conscience yet that was 
touched ; but his pride. 

He pondered over the countless instances in which he had been 
subjected to the savage reproaches and the brutal taunts of Stark. 

He ground his teeth with fury as he dwelt upon what to a man 
of his turn of mind was even harder to bear than undisguised abuse: 
the polished sneers and covert satire in which the solicitor so 
frequently indulged. He foamed almost with impotent rage as he 
reflected that the catastrophe, just happened, ended his life of luxury 
and ease, and returned him to the vile existence he hated now with 
all the greater vehemence for his temporary escape. 

“All chance of release for ever baffled by the death of Lee!” he 
groaned. “ Back to Gehenna after a taste of Paradise ! Could ever 
Grand Inquisitor have devised cruder, more exquisite torture? 
Farewell to every hope of Guenever Lee! — Stay. Is that so certain? 
Let me think it out.” 

He sat down under a hedge, sank his head in his hands, and 
began to turn this problem over in his mind. 

Might it not be possible, provided he pla^^ed his cards ably, yet 
to escape the infamous serfdom by which he was enthralled ? To 
escape it by means of Guenever, instead of by means of Lee? The 
sailor must have made a will ; men of his stamp are not those who 
die intestate. If, then, by that will mother and daughter were well 
provided for, Oliver knew them well enough to be aware that 
Guenever’s would be the ruling spirit, Guenever’s the leading mind. 
Could he but establish strong interest in her heart, Mrs. Lee’s con- 
sent would not be difficult to gain. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


365 


Clearly then it was his cue to press his suit. But to do so with 
the greatest prospect of success, it must be done forthwith. That 
very night, before the news of the calamity transpired, before the 
girl learned she was an heiress, before the possession of wealth taught 
her to aspire to a more brilliant lot than she might suppose him able 
to confer, he must try to obtain a promisehonor would not allow her 
subsequently to retract. 

A worthy scheme, worthy of the selfish egotist that could conceive 
it, capable only of emanating from so cold a heart, so calculating a 
brain ! 

The more Oliver turned this project over in his mind, the better 
he liked the idea, the more feasible it seemed. Yet no stronger proof 
could be afforded of the depth of moral degradation to. which he had 
sunk. Most men — no matter how heartless, how entirely absorbed 
in dreams of self-aggrandizement — would have shrunk from the 
thought of wooing the child, unconscious of the parent’s death. 
Most men would have believed the proffer of love to a girl by one 
fresh from witnessing her father’s fate, and not remotely concerned 
in bringing that fate to pass, too hideous a mockery of affection A r 
Heaven to allow to prosper. But Oliver Blande had no such 
scruples. Resolved upon escaping Stark at all hazards, bent upon 
continued enjoyment of the luxurious life he had recently led, he 
rather plumed himself upon his cleverness in striking out the idea 
than felt the faintest inkling of remorse at the atrocious deception he 
designed. 

Be sure that he never put the matter to himself in the plain, 
unvarnished language with which you or I would stigmatize such 
an act. Not he. With the accustomed, perhaps unavoidable 
hypocrisy of very selfish and unscrupulous men, he thought that 
while what he intended to achieve would undoubtedly be the most 
advantageous course for himself, he would take care — even for his 
own comfort — to render Guenever’s future happy too. He would 
certainly make her a good husband. That is to say, he would 
always treat her with politeness and civility ; would be faithful and 
constant, within reasonable limits, and if he ever did worship at 
another and a fairer shrine, would carefully keep his peccadilloes 
from her knowledge. She should have nothing to complain of. Far 
from it ; hers should be a truly enviable lot. She should dress as she 
liked, keep what society she chose, go where she pleased, travel when 


366 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


she felt inclined — in short, enjoy e^s^ery species of liberty and comfort 
a rational woman could desire. How many wives could say as 
much ! 

Sanguine as the luxurious pleasure-seeker commonly is, minutes 
seemed hours until he could carry out his plan. To the marvellous 
power contained in super-concentrated essence of self and unbounded 
belief in his own perfections must be ascribed, I suppose, the success 
with which he met. Whatever the reason, it is painfully certain that 
where one modest man of positive ability fails, ten fluent empty- 
headed coxcombs invariably carry the day. 

Though less empty-headed than many, this fluent coxcomb proved 
no exception to the rule. The oily tongue, the suave and ingrati- 
ating manner, did their wonted ofiice. He gained his point, and 
more than he hoped for. Before they parted that night, Gucncver 
and he had irrevocably plighted one another their troth. 


CHAPTER LVI. 

counsel’s opinion. 

^‘Mr. Blythe, of Paston Grange, I believe?*’ said Mr. Crosthwaite, 
interrogatively. “Quite so. Good morning, Mr. Blythe. Pray 
what procures me the honor? ” 

Very stiff and formal was the reception given by the worthy 
solicitor to Will and his friend the Oracle, very cool and reserved the 
tone in which he spoke. He had evidently not yet forgotten the 
slight shown to his advice respecting Albany Stark, nor forgiven the 
two who now stood before him for having witnessed his recent 
defeat. 

“In what way can I be of service to you, Mr. Blythe?” he con- 
tinued, with provoking dignity. “ Mr. Mouleof Lynn, lunderstood, 
was yoiir usual adviser. A gentleman of great experience in the pro- 
fession, Mr. Moule, I believe; that is, for a country practitioner.” 

Taken aback at this unexpected stumbling-block in the outset of 
the inquiry. Will cast an appealing glance towards Josh, and the 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


367 


veteran — always ready to assist a comrade at a pinch — came 
promptly to the rescue. 

A few short, pithy sentences conveyed the gist of the matter in 
which Mr. Crosthwaite’s advice was required. The solicitor must 
have been more than mortal had he been able to repress a gleam of 
triumph. 

“I shouldnot bedealing fairly with you, gentlemen,” heremarked, 
*‘If I were to say that I felt surprised at what you tell me. The 
moment I found Mr. Stark engaged in the case, I knew at once that 
that some chicanery was on foot.” 

“Then why not have put us on our guard ? ” burst out impetuous 
Will. “A word in proper time might have prevented all this 
mischief.” 

“My good sir, you will please to recollect that I did speak that 
word. I went as far in the way of cautioning you against the man 
as could at all be prudently done. Had my advice been followed, he 
would never have been admitted to the family councils. You must 
acquit me of all blame, if you please.” 

“But even if Stark had not been present, the codicil must have 
been found,” suggested Josh. 

“Quite so, undoubtedly. A very shrewd remark,” returned Mr. 
Crosthwaite, blandly. “But in that case we should have had the 
inestimable advantage of possessing all the data for testing its 
genuineness, which now we have not. I hardly see, gentlemen, that 
much can be dbne. A case for opposing probate can be prepared, of 
course, but I would not advise you to be over sanguine as to its 
effect. The enemy has been too clever for you, I^m afraid.” 

“Too clever!” repeated Will, indignantly. “Why, Mr. Crosth- 
waite, do you mean to say you can have any possible doubt ?” 

“ About the result, my dear sir ? ” interrupted the solicitor, quietly 
taking a pinch of snuff. “ May I offer you my box ? I think you ’d 
like the mixture — Scotch and brown rappee. Ah! you don’t indulge 
— Well, no; I’m sorry to say I entertain extremely little doubt that 
any efforts we may make will be altogether useless. But then, you 
know, the law’s uncertain, and we can try.” 

“Well, but look here. Stark stated to you and me that he met my 
Uncle Ralph at Lynn. Now we have inquired all through the town, 
and cannot find that any such meeting took place at all. Won’t it 
be fatal to his case that he can’t prove it did ? ” 


368 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


“Oh dear no, not necessarily. Because, you see, he need n’t prove 
it at all. It’s for you to prove the negative, not for him to prove 
the affirmative.” 

“What do you mean? I do n’t understand.” 

“ Probably not, my dear sir. Few unprofessional men are well 
versed in these nice technicalities. The matter is simply this wa^” 
It is a legal axiom that no man can be called upon to prove himself 
in the wrong. Stark says he did meet the late Captain Lee upon a 
day named, and thereby sets up a theory, which holds good until 
disproved. He occupies strong ground, for Captain Lee cannot be 
called into court, and Stark is of course prepared to make affidavit 
to the meeting. It is your business to prove his theory bad, if you 
can. The burden of proof is therefore cast upon you. In law we call 
that proving the negative. Now, unless you are prepared to bring 
forward every householder in Lynn, and let each swear seriatim 
that the meeting did not take place upon his or her premises, I 
hardly see how your point is to be gained.” 

“Of course that ’s absurd,” exclaimed Will. 

“Slightly impracticable, I confess. Eyen if possible, you would be 
very little further advanced. To raise the point at all would be ex- 
tremely dangerous. Do you imagine Stark would have much diffi- 
culty in making it worth some needy person’s while to support his 

allegation ? Your case would then be blown to the winds. Can’t 

I prevail upon you to try the mixture? No? What say you, sir? 
(To Josh) Ah, that ’s right. I’m sure you ’ll like it.” 

“But what on earth can be done then?” cried Will, impetuousha 
“Are we to sit down patiently, and let this scoundrel quietly walk 
off with all my uncle’s property ? It can’t be done, Mr. Crosthwaite ; 
can’t, shan’t, must n’t while we ’ve a penny left to fight him with ! ” 

“Very good, my dear sir, very spirited and proper, I dare say. 
You are the best judge of your own affairs. May I make just one 
suggestion? In alluding to the opposite party, I would advise 
abstaining from epithets. They serve no purpose, induce a habit of 
speech that may perhaps prove awkward, and in addition are 
actionable, if overheard.” 

•“I always speak of a man as I find him, Mr. Crosthwaite. If this 
fellow has really done what we suspect, a greater villain does n’t 
walk the earth unhung.” 

“Quite possible, my dear sir; highly probable, in fact,” returned 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


369 


the solicitor equably. ‘‘Between ourselves, and quite in confidence, 
you understand, nothing whatever would surprise me on the part 
of Mr. Stark. You see, however, we have to consider not so much 
what he may have done, as what we can prove. That will be our 
difficulty.” 

“Then you agree with us that a fraud has been committed?” 
asked Will. 

“ Of that, my dear sir, I never entertained a doubt, considering the 
extraordinary manner of Mr. Stark’s interference. But, to do the 
man justice, he is so remarkably acute that I very much fear we 
shall find no flaw in his arrangements. As however you are good 
enough to favor me with your confidence, I must ask you for an 
exact account of everything you have learned and done up to this 
moment. Then we can decide upon the course we shall pursue.” 

Prompted by Josh, Will Blythe thereupon entered into a precise 
detail of all the two had discovered at Lynn, of the facts learned 
from the papers in Ralph’s pocket-book, and of the singular family 
revelation that had come to light since the reading of the will. When 
Will had finished. Josh took up the story, and told what had hap- 
pened to him in the library at The Towers the night before the 
funeral, not forgetting his theory of the manner in which the altered 
will had been conjured into the chest. This latter part of the narra- 
tive attracted Mr. Crosthwaite’s particular interest. He questioned 
and cross-questioned the veteran until even Josh’s patience began to 
tire ; but the legal adviser pertinaciously continued until he felt that 
he had extracted the very smallest remaining particle of available 
knowledge. 

“Well, gentlemen,” remarked Mr. Crosthwaite, after he had taken 
copious notes of all the information afforded, “that is, I think as 
far as we can go to-day. I shall at once take certain preliminary 
steps and set a few inquires on foot. You are stopping in town, I 
presume. Yes ? Very good ; then will you call upon me two days 
hence, at twelve ? ” 

“Before we go, Mr. Crosthwaite,” said Will, “I should like to 
know your final opinion of the case, now that you are in possession 
of all the circumstances. My mother will be very anxious.” 

The solicitor took snuff with great deliberation, refreshing each 
nostril alternately with that air of leisurely abandonment to the 
inhalation of the pungent dust so peculiarly provoking to an impet- 


370 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


uotis person. After a pause that tried Will’s patience sorely, he 
replied. 

“Repeating my former caution not to be too sanguine, my 3 "oung 
friend, I may say frankly that I have now a better opinion as to 
ultinmte success than I had at first. Provided we can carry out a 
certain line of attack, I am disposed to think we may very possibly 
gain the day.” 

“ Hurrah ! ” cried Will and Josh together. “Hip, hip ” 

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” interposed the solicitor, horrified at the 
breach of decorum. “Pray consider my professional character. And 
remember that, after all, with so astute and unprincipled an antag- 
onist, victory is extremely doubtfnl. If hard swearing can avail, 
depend upon it Mr. Stark will not be at a loss for arguments to 
prove his case. At twelve on Friday, if you please. Good morning.” 

Those who have felt the weariness of expeetation, coupled with 
the pangs of foreed inaction, may form some notion of the fretful 
frai^^e of mind in whieh Will BHthe passed the hours until the time 
appointed by Crosthwaite for their next interview. Though his 
visits to London had not been many, he was yet not so utter a 
rustie as to be an entire stranger to the great metropolis. But pub- 
lie amusements at that time of day were not so numerous or varied 
as now. At a period when the Cr^'stal Palace and the Agrieultural 
Hall were as ^^et undreamed of; when no exeursion trains eon- 
vej^ed crowds of pleasure- seekers for ridieulously trifling sums to 
pass eight hours by the sea-side, or carried them aeross the Sleeve 
and baek before the hour-hand had twiee gone round the dial ; when 
there were no morning performanees at theatres, few coneerts, 
scanty exhibitions, and never a music-hall in being; when Cremorne 
and its congeners had not yet snufled out the 100,000 lamps of 
famed Yauxhall; — it was not so easy for a couple of eountrymen 
doomed to remain an indefinite number of days in Babylon to know 
exactly how to kill their time. It is only by comparison of thirty 
years ago with the present day that one learns to understand the 
astonishing progress the purve^'ors of amusement for the many- 
headed have made in furnishing pabulum to their patron. 

Judging by my own idea of our two friends’ tastes, however, I 
doubt whether they would have appreciated the public pastimes 
now provided, had they even been then in vogue. Times change says 
the Latinist, and men change with them. The young farme?andhis 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE, 


371 


companion, thougli both as excellent fellows in heart and feeling, in 
principles and practice, in all that makes men really estimable and 
good, as any of their class now-a-days to be met with, would have 
voted nearly all the enjoyments above spoken of irretrievably 
“slow,” if they had been acquainted with that singular use of a 
strangely inappropriate word. • 

Thirty 3^ears ago the ring had not fallen into the disfavor with 
which it is now happily so generally regarded. It wasclassed among 
manly sports. To witness two men trained to the highest pitch of 
bodily strength and vigor of which the human frame is capal^lc, 
pounding each other’s faces into ghastly unrecognizable masses of 
bleeding pulp was considered a spectacle highly conducive to national 
pluck and daring, and would undoubtedly have numbered our friends 
among its applauding spectators. Cock-fighting, rat-killing, badger- 
drawing — all the class of so-called “sports’! whose diversion con- 
sists in the torture of a weaker animal by a stronger — came into the 
same category, and were thought immensely exhilarating by the 
bucolic mind. 

Not that the dweller in towns was one whit more humane in this 
respect than the countryman. Peer was as blameable as peasant, 
employer of labor as the artisan to whom his enterprise afforded the 
means of life. Disregard for the sufferings of an inferior being was a 
feature of the time, out of which the tone of the nation has emerged 
into an in some respects exagerated humanitarianism. The first 
Parliament summoned after the passing of the Reform Bill was still 
sitting; negro slavery had only just been abolished throughout the 
British dominions ; it was still legal to employ children to climb 
chimneys, to prick them with goads when, growing terrified, the\' 
refused to ascend, to roast their feet with burning straw until they 
fell down suffocated with the reek; Martin’s Act, prohibiting the use 
of dogs for draught was not yet passed ; the Society for the Preven- 
tion of Cruelty to Animals had only just sprunginto existence. Want 
of thought and heedless ignorance, far more than cruelty, la\' at the 
root of the indifference to suffering that then prevailed ; and kindlier 
feeling, greater civilization and refinement, less open contempt for 
inferiors — human as well as brute — have come with the modern gos- 
pel of sounder and more generally diffused popular education. 

By some means or other Will and his friend contrived to get 


372 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


through the period of probation, and presented themselves at Mr. 
Crosthwaite’s chambers at the appointed time. 

‘^Well, gentlemen,” said the solicitor, “we have made some little 
progress since your last visit. Interesting particulars have come to 
light about a gentleman of your acquaintance, I think, Mr. Blythe* 
fray how did you first come to know Captain Blande ? ” 

“At my uncle’s, where he was on a visit,” replied Will, surprised 
at the question. 

“Ay, and where did Captain Lee pick him up? Have you any 
idea ? ” 

“Alet him somewhere, I suppose. Uncle Ralph was a man who 
easily made acquaintances.” 

“Unfortunately for himself, in this case,” returned Crosthwaite, 
drily. “Did it ever occur to you, Mr. Blythe, there was any con- 
nection between this man Blande and Stark ? ” 

“I never thought so,” admitted Will, frankly. “But Rich here 
suggested the idea after we found they had been seen together in 
Lynn.” 

“Ay, ay,” remarked the solicitor, nodding approval at Josh. 
“Very pretty, sir. You’ll be glad to hear that your theory seems 
coming true.” Crosthwaite rang a bell. “Jackson, ask Mr. Keane 
to step in.” 

Enter Mr. Keane at the summons. A middle-sized man about 
thirty- five, simply dressed, stoutish, fresh-colored, and pleasant- 
looking. With the exception of a scrap of whisker, his face was 
closely shaven, showing a pointed chin with a dimple and a full, 
strong jaw. The most noticeable feature in the man’s countenance 
was the eye — large, clear, resolute, and of a bright blue. His manner 
was very easy, quiet and self-possessed. 

“Your servant, gentlemen,” was Mr. Keane’s greeting, as the blue 
eye scanned the friends from head to foot, and read their characters 
at a glance. 

“Now, Keane,” said Mr. Crosthwaite, “I want you to tell these 
gentlemen all 3"ou know about Mr. Stark and Captain Blande.” 

“ All, sir ?” asked Keane with a merry twinkle of the eye. “’T 
would take pretty nigh a week.” 

“Well, well ; as much as they ought to know for the present 
purpose.” 

In a very calm, dry tone Mr. Keane proceeded to set forth to the 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


373 


astonlvshed inquirers a few of the faets affecting Stark and his 
satellite that we already know. 1 leave you to imagine their horror 
and intense disgust. 

“Yes, gentlemen,” remarked the solicitor, triumphantly, we’re on 
the right scent, I imagine, and we’ve got the right man here to fol- 
low it up. Keane has managed to get hold of one of Panting’s 
mutes, who gives valuable evidence, corroborating Mr. Rich’s state- 
ment as to what happened at TheTowersthenight before the funeral. 
Palm-oil, judiciously applied, has a wonderfully stimulating effect 
upon the memory, eh Keane? ” 

“Makes the wheels of the world to go, sir,” replied Keane, senten- 
tiously. “Now, gentlemen, just to be sure we ’re going on all right, 
1 shall ask you to come with me'to a place where I shall point out 
to you, sir (to Josh) that party with the foxy beard as paid you a 
visit, and to both on yon the person I know as Captain Blande. If 
you identify these two, we shall see our way a little clearer.” 


CHAPTER LVII. 


A LAST APPEAL. 

“Mr. Stark in, Tiptoft?” asked Oliver, striding unexpectedly into 
the counting-house at Clement’s Inn early in the forenoon. 

“Not arrived yet, sir. Expect him every minute. Will you wait, 
or can I give any message ? ” 

“Oh, I ’ll wait ; I dare say he won’t be long.” 

Oliver drew a chair to the fire, and sat thoughtfully stirring the 
blaze. From the corner of his eye, as he sat at his desk apparently 
busied with accounts, Nat cast a crafty glance at the moody face 
glowering into the flame, and felt convinced the fashionable captain 
had some very troublesome burden upon his mind. 

“Something up between him and old Blackface, that ’s certain,’^ 
was the thought that darted through Nat’s brain. “Wonder if I 
could manage to give him a hint of what ’s going on. No harm to 
try, at any rate.” 


374 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE, 


“Nice weather for the birds, Captain,” he continued aloud. “Did 
3^ou have much shooting while you were down in Norfolk ?” 

Oliver made no reply. 

“That cock won’t fight,” muttered Nat. “Let’s have a shy with 
another. — Shocking affair that about Captain Lee and his brother- 
in-law. Did you know either of the parties. Captain ? ” 

Still no reply, but it seemed to Nat that Oliver’s attention was 
caught by the sound of the familiar name. 

“Wilkins Baird made a clever speech at the inquest, didn’t he?” 
continued the pertinacious wasp. “By-the-bye, I see there was a 
Captain Blande mentioned in the report of the proceedings. Any re- 
lation of yours. Captain? If not, it’s rather a curious coincidence.” 
Oliver turned suddenly upon his tormentor with a face of ire. 

“What in the devil’s name are you driving at this morning? ” he 
demanded. “You know I was down there as well as I know it 
myself. If you’ve anything to say, speak it out, plainly and 
straightforward, like a man.” 

Nat descended from his stool and sauntered towards the fire, 
where he leaned his elbow on the mantelpiece, and bent his mouth 
towards Oliver’s ear. 

“The fact is. Captain,” he whispered, “there’s some ugly stories 
getting abroad about Lee’s will. You know best whether there’s 
any truth in ’em. But I may tell you — mum though ; you ’ll give me 
your word to keep it dark ? ” 

Oliver nodded impatiently. 

“Well, I rayther think — mind, now, you’ll promise not to split — 
but I rayther think the family suspect something wrong. You know 
Crosthwaite ? ” 

“ Lee’s solicitor, yes. Go on.” 

“He’s getting up the case. They’re hunting out evidence, and — 
oh Lord! There’s the governor! ” 

A firm and steady step came at this instant through the outer 
room. Nat made but one leap to the top of his stool, and plunged 
head-foremost into a long addition column. Pen and tongue were 
busily engaged in running up the line of figures when Albany Stark 
entered. 

“Ah, Blande, good morning. Want to see me? Well, come in. 
Any one called Tip toft ? ” 

“Not a soul, sir.” 


ALBANY STAkK^S REVENGB. 


376 


Not a soul, eh! Anybodies?^’ 

The clerk went into ecstasies over this extremely small joke, as 
in duty bound, and the chief, with his attendant satellite, passed 
into the private room. As Oliver brushed by Nat, the latter 
cautiously held up two fingers and stuck the handle of his pen, cigar- 
fashion, between his lips, signifying the hour when he would meet 
the confidential agent at a neighbouring smoking-room. Blande 
acknowledged the appointment with a nod, and Nat was left to his 
own reflections. 

While Stark ran his eye through the various letters upon his 
table, Oliver — who knew his habit— made his report upon sundry 
minor matters in the way of his vocation. Some men have the 
faculty of taking into the mind several concurrent trains of thought, 
entirely different in character and subject, and of following out each 
at the same time to its logical conclusion. The quality is shown in 
a still more conspicuous degree by the chess-player who encounters 
simultaneously ten separate antagonists in distinct games without 
seeing one of the boards. It is said to have been occasionally dis- 
played by men who have dictated “copy” to half-a-dozen amanu- 
eneses on as many different topics without confusion. Regarded as 
a mental peculiarity, it may perhaps be assumed that Nature only 
confers the gift upon men of abnormally large brain and especially 
acute intellect. 

Be this as it may, the quality was indubitably possessed by 
A^any Stark. He continued opening and' reading his letters while 
Oliver proceeded with his report, and clearly displayed his perfect 
comprehension of all the young man said by the frequent questions 
that he interposed. Some idea of the character of his dealings may 
be gathered from a few of his remarks. 

“Young Gwynne wants a renewal, you say. Avoid answer for a 
day or two. Look up his account in the register and ascertain what 
paper of his is afloat among the Jews. He must be near the end of 
his tether. If he grows troublesome, remember your friend in the 
City is out of town.” 

“Poyntz and Burney, the cornfactors of Mark Lane, have been 
sounding me about another advance,” continued Oliver. 

“ To what amount ? ” 

“Burney fought shy of saying, but no doubt at least ten 
thousand. 


376 ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 

“Yes, to take up the old bills with, and speculate afresh. Much 
obliged. I prefer making use of my capital myself. Refuse, and say 
that if the outstanding debt is not met to the hour, a docquet will 
be struck.’^ 

“Madame Vernet, the Regent Street milliner, wishes to borrow 
five hundred till after Christmas.” 

“ How will she pay then ? ” 

“From the season’s bills.” 

“ Hm ! Shaky security. A rope of Sand. Is she safe ? ” 

“She met the last loan punctually. But the husband has been 
• nicked badly of late. Lost heavily upon the Leger, I hear, and can’t 
show at the Corner.” 

“ Looks like the beginning of the end. Let her have the money on 
short bills, at thirty.” 

“You took twenty last time. She ’ll raise an awful scream.” 

“And come to terms afterwards. If she can do better, let her go 
elsewhere. The greater the risk, the higher the interest. Tell her so. 
Anymore?” 

“Only one case. Watkins, a small linen-draper in Soho who had 
a hundred on loan six mouths ago asks further time. Promises a 
bonus of ten in addition to interest.” 

“Too good to be genuine. Is the loan due ? ” 

“To-morrow.” 

“ Why don’t he pay ? ” 

“Pleads a sick wife, illness and death of two children. Says he 
could n’t attend to business through distress of mind. What is to be 
done? ” 

“Sell him up! ” returned Stark, sternly. “ What right has such a 
fool to bring other fools into existence ? I ’ll give him a useful lesson; 
teach him to study Malthus. Sell him up! ” 

It was clear that little clemency was to be obtained from Albany 
Stark this dayq or Oliver might have interceded for the man over- 
taken by unexpected misfortune, who was to fall a sacrifice to the 
bitter cynicism of the gloomy misanthrope. But he was too much 
intent just then upon advancing his own interests to care for 
troubles in which he was not personally concerned. 

“Anything further ? ” inquired Stark. 

“Not in the way of business exactly, but I’d be glad of an answer 
to the request I made you a fortnight back.” 


ALBANV STARK^S REVENGE. 


“What request? ” 

“For certain papers you hold to which I attach a value.’’ 

“ Certain forgeries, you mean, for which you might be transported. 
Why don’t you speak out plainly? Never scowl at me, my good 
fellow. Do you fancy I ’m afraid of hurting your feelings ? ” 

The taunting sneer that Stark contrived to throw into his voice 
was horribly offensive; but Oliver managed to gulp down his rising 
passion as he quietly replied : 

“I am aware you care nothing about that, but I still wait for an 
answer. Will you let me have the papers ? ” 

“Suppose I say yes, what will you give me in return ? ” 

“I should be very grateful.” 

“And display your gratitude by selling some of my secrets to the 
highest bidder, no doubt. I know you better than you fancy, my 
friend.” 

“You have no right to bring such a charge,” returned Oliver, in- 
dignantly. “Point out an instance where I have ever played 3^011 
false. You cannot. I have been as true as ever was the most 
devoted slave, — far truer ” 

He stopped in some confusion, feeling that anger was hurrjdng 
him on to imprudent lengths. 

“Than so crabbed a master deserved, you would sa\%” continued 
Stark, composedly. “Quite possible, but then it was your own 
interest, so the merit is not great. As for your request, I cannot 
entertain it at present. Read that.” 

He threw an open letter across the table. It was from Air. 
Crosthwaite, headed “Re Blythe versus Executor Ralph Lee 
deceased,” and contained a formal notice of the solicitor having re- 
ceived instructions to oppose probate being granted of the sailor’s 
will. The ground upon which the opposition would be based was 
not stated. 

“I don’t see how that concerns me,” said Oliver, looking up. “i 
got no benefit from the will.” 

“ How do you know that ? ” asked Stark, quickly. 

“Well, I suppose not,” returned Oliver, trying to retrieve his mis- 
take, “ or I should have heard something of it before now. Besides, 
considering the terms Lee and I were upon, the idea’s preposterous. 
What can a squabble about the will have to do with keeping your 
promise, and returning me the papers ? ” 


378 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


“Thus much, young wiseacre,’’ sneered his employer. “So long as 
those specimens of your facility in writing another person’s name 
remain in my keeping, I possess a persuasive argument you ’re hardly 
likely to refuse. I can ’t afford to sign your free papers yet, my fine 
fellow. This new, obstacle must first be set aside, and that through 
you.’’ 

“What am I expected to do ? ” 

“A trifle. Simply to make affidavit to having written your own 
signature. Nothing more.” 

“In other words,” returned Oliver, “perjury. Quite a trifle indeed. 
You set me the example of plain-speaking, remember. Stark, you 
cannot hoodwink me. Years ago, when I was a grreen young fool, 
3'ou found it eas^" to cajole me into much I’d give m}^ right hand 
never to have consented to. Now, taught by sad experience, what I 
do is with my eyes open. This villany, at any rate. I’ll not commit. 
I refuse. Find a more yielding tool.” 

“Oliver Blande,” replied Stark, very calmly, “we have had these 
scenes before, and invariably with the same termination. You have 
alwa^^s begun by pretending reluctance, always concluded by yield- 
ing submission. Let us spare ourselves the trouble of the usual farce. 
However high your tone, you know you dare not disobey. Some 
day, I warn you, there will come a limit to my forbearance. You 
will find yourself in a position from which no struggles, no ingenuity, 
will avail to set 3"ou free.” 

“Let it come then!” retorted Oliver, furiously, giving rein to the 
passion he had so long restrained. “Better make atonement to 
society at once than for ever Crouch beneath a despot’s lash. Over 
and over again you have promised me these papers; over and over 
again, when I claimed that you should keep your word, you have 
postponed the period of my release. I will bear this paltering no 
longer. Trained though I have been in 3^our remorseless school, I 
am not destitute of human feeling. I have my likings, wishes, hopes, 
yes, even my conscience — sneer if you like — as another niaii. Find a 
more callous instrument to aid 3^ou in your findish plans. I say I 
will not do this thing. Now try your worst.” 

Thoroughly roused, and so completely carried away by his rage 
as to be for the moment careless of consequences, Oliver threw him- 
self back in his chair, folded his arms and faced his tormentor with a 
countenance of dauntless defiance. 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE, 


379 


“Bravo! bravo! creditably played !^^ ejaculated Stark, gently 
striking his hands together. “Kean or Maeready could hardly have 
done better. Pity that so much capital indignation should be 
wasted upon so inadequate a theme. You are excited now, Blande; 
not in a fit frame of mind tOn^discuss the subject further. Come to 
me to-morrow afternoon in Ormond Street, where I have appoint- 
ments. Then I will receive your final answer.” 

“It will be the same as I give you now,” replied Oliver, doggedly. 

“I should regret it, for your sake, my young friend, but I have 
better hopes of your good sense. At present I’ll not detain you 
longer. Good morning.’^ 


CHAPTER LVIII. 


DOUBTS. 

Oliver Blande rushed from his employer’s presence in a state of 
anger and dismay so euriously mingled that it was hard to say 
whieh feeling had the mastery. The instant his defiant refused to do 
what Stark required had passed his lips, he began to quake for the 
consequences. When he entered the room, it had been very far from 
his intention to throw down the gauntlet. Upon the contrary, he 
had fully resolved to follow out an entirely different line of policy — 
not in reality one with more compliarpt, but certainly less overtly 
hostile. Stark’s sneers, however, and distinct refusal to comply 
with a request we know Oliver had so deeply at heart until his 
bondsman had given fresh earnest of his devotion, had roused the 
young man’s irritable temper and provoked the outburst. 

But there was a deeper reason still for Blande’s indignant rejec- 
tion of the service Stark demanded. Although perfectly acquainted 
withtheeontents of Lee’s original will, by which Guenever — of whose 
metamorphosis into Georgina Mayne Oliver was as yet unaware — 
inherited some thousands, he was in thorough ignorance of the tenor 
of the codicil he had been forced by Stark to attest. The hatred his 
employer had cherished towards Lee he had strong reasons for believ- 


380 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


ing to have been now transferred to the dead sailor’s family. It was 
probable therefore the codicil alienated every item of property that 
could be diverted without suspicion from the heirs named in the will. 
Oliver’s interests — identical, as he now considered, with those of 
Guenever — were thus directly opposed to Stark being able to estab- 
lish the codicil. Hen^e, to assist his employer would be to act 
against himself— a piece of suicidal folly he felt vehemently angry at 
being asked to commit. 

Still, dared he persist in his refusal? Dared he brave the cool, 
persevering malignity of which he knew Stark capable towards 
those by whom he was offended? Was it possible he could avoid 
being urged on, by the resistless power his employer possessed in the 
threat he so constantly held out, to as it were cut his own throat, 
or destroy with his own hands the bridge he had already built in 
fancy for ultimate escape? He began to fear that the Nemesis so 
constantly attending the stratagems of the shifty would absolutely 
require this sacrifice. He should be swallowed up in the pit his own 
hands had dug. 

Whichever way he looked, the prospect seemed equally hopeless. 
Resistance to Stark — persistence in refusal — was sure and certain 
ruin. Compliance with what was demanded of him, and his own 
acuteness told him that his evidence to the genuineness of Lee’s 
signature would probably be decisive, would place the victory in 
Stark’s hands and destroy his own hopes. With him rested the 
capability of turning the scale. In which direction should he bid it 
incline ? 

“I hate this bantering tyrant,” he muttered, with so bitter and 
so desperate a hate that I could almost find it in my heart to spoil 
his game even if I brought about my own perdition.” 

Oliver had abundant leisureto indulge in reflection upon the posi- 
tion of affairs, while watching the airy wreaths given off by the 
smoke from his Havana, for Nat did not put in an appearance at the 
rendezvous until considerably past the appointed hour. He came in 
at last, puffing and blowing, his face giving evident tokens of his 
having had a severe run. 

“Afraid I ’ve kept you waiting,” he panted, “but I could n’t get 
away before. Just as if he suspected something, he ordered me to 
make out a lot of accounts I know he does n’t want that would have 
detained me all day. But I dodged him after all. Waited till he 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


381 


went out to lunch, then told Funks I was suddenly taken ill, and 
obliged to go home. Ah, there’s more deep coves in the world than 
him, though he don’t think so.” 

Nat’s self-satisfied air, as he proudly compared his small wits 
with the intellect of Albany Stark, was so irresistibly comic that 
Oliver had trouble to hide a smile. He did restrain it, however, not 
by any means wishing to provoke the little man’s indignation. 

“Tell me,” said Oliver, ^‘all you know about this opposition to 
Lee’s will. What ground does Crosthwaite take ? ” 

“Well, you see, that’s rather more than I know just at present. If 
I may risk a guess, I should say it was undue influence. He’s look- 
ing up evidence everywhere though, and who do you think he ’s got 
at work ? Hush ! — in your ear. Why, Keane, the detective.” 

Oliver whistled a prolonged note of amazement. 

“Then Crosthwaite must be in earnest,” he returned. “By George, 
the matter’s serious.” 

Nat watched his companion’s grave face with the shrewd look a 
cunning monkey turns upon a liberal hand, to spy whether there is a 
prospect of another nut. 

“Butundue influence,” observed Oliver, reverting to his associate’s 
previous remark. “ On the part of whom ? Stark ? ” 

Nat nodded hard and often, casting his eye cautiously round the 
room, to see they were not overheard. 

“That would be difficult to prove, I imagine, almost impossible,” 
the young man went on. “Have you any idea what they mean to 
go upon? ” 

“Well, I have and I have n’t, you know. That is I’m not free to 
say. But I know somebody who could prove everything that’s 
wanted, and I fancy Crosthwaite would make it worth his while too 
if he chose.” 

“Ay, indeed. Who ’s that?” demanded Oliver eagerly. 

Nat put his lips close to his interrogator’s ear, and gently 
breathed one syllable. Slight as the sound was, it sufficed to send a 
flush of excitement to Oliver’s face and make his heart give a sudden 
bound. 

“I!” he repeated, looking sharply into the sly, peering face. 
“What makes you fancy I could tell what they seek to learn ? ” 

“ Well, you see. Captain,” replied Nat with a crafty twinkle of his 
cunning little eyes, “some folks have got quick ears, and other folks 


3S2 


ALBAhY ::^TARK^S REVENGE, 


sometimes speak lotidisli, and so it happens occasionally that what 
was only meant to be said to one party forcesitself like, unintention- 
ally, upon another party’s hearing. D’ ye twig?” 

“Meaning, I presume, that you’ve been at your old tricks. But 
how does that affect me ? ” 

“Just this way. I’ve heard enough this morning to find v/ho can 
give the necessary information, if he likes, and I know pretty well 
what store the other side set upon it by the way Keane’s been 
trjnng to work the pump.” 

“Ay, the3^’ve been making overtures to^ you, have they? ’’said 
Oliver, eying his small companion, if truth must be told, with more 
than a suspicion of jealousy. 

“A — few,” returned Nat, with an attempt at Yankee twang he 
affected sometimes when he tried to be particularly facetious. “Lord, 
Captain, what a pity it is so clever a chap as you are hasn’t the 
gumption to see which side his bread ’s buttered. If I felt sure 3^011 
wouldn’t be vexed now, I ’d show you the true bearings of the bus- 
iness in a brace o’ shakes.” 

It was a strong proof of the indecision and doubt by which 
Oliver was at this moment assailed that he endured without protest 
the vulgar familiarity of a man he would at any other time have 
shaken off with disgust. Rightly interpreting the look of surprise 
turned upon him as encouragement to proceed, the tempter whis- 
pered on: 

“Stark’s weathered many a storm, but the gale rising now will 
surely sink him. Keane’s not the man to take a case in hand unless 
he ’s certain to puzzle it out. Where that kind o’ bulldog once 
fastens, he holds. Depend upon it they feel convinced of winning, 
even without your help, but with it, the task will be a jolly deal 
easier. Ifl wasyou, I ’d cut in before it’s too late, and make my 
own terms. You ’ll find them liberal.” 

“ You have been put up to this,” said Oliver, eying him sternly. 
“ Come, confess. You have been charged to make these offers.” 

“To be frank and above-board. Captain, I have. Rightly or 
wrongly, t’other side believe you can give information that’ll save 
’em a precious lot’ o^ trouble. Mind, they’ll work it out anyhow; 
be sure o’ that, only there’s this difference. If you help ’em, it’ll be 
very much to your advantage, whereas if you won’t, they ’ll look 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


383 


upon you as in the same boat with Stark, and I needn’t say what ’ll 
happen then.” 

This latter alternative was an obvious danger that, strange to 
say, had not yet presented itself to Oliver’s mind. His acutene.ss 
however instantly perceived its justice, and it formed a more power- 
ful argument in favor of the course Nat was advocating than any 
hitherto brought forward. 

With all the little man’s alfectation of frankness, it may be easily 
supposed that he had some strong motive of personal advantage to 
subserve in his pertinacious efforts to persuade. The promise of a 
twenty-pound note, if he succeeded in bringing Oliver over to the 
hostile camp, was the seducing bait. Urged on by its tempting 
charms, he re-opened fire upon the entrenchments already rudel^^ 
shaken by his previous attack. 

“Suppose, for the sake of argument, Stark gets over this danger, 
proves the codicil, and carries all his points, will that improve your 
position ? After all these years, do you know his character so little 
as to suppose he’ll ever, under any circumstances, give up the small- 
est advantage he has gained? Depend upon it. Captain, 3^ou ’ll be 
no nearer to getting what you want after you ’ve helped him than 
you are before. Think it over. Ask yourself if you can remember 
one single instance where he ’s let go his hold. Why should he in your 
case? Because he’s promised, you. may may say. Did 3^011 ever 
know him at a loss for an excuse to evade keeping his word ? I never 
did:” 

“Nor I, Tiptoft,” rejoined Oliver. “Whether your own ingenuity 
or another’s prompts your tongue, I ’m at a loss to guess, but I 
admit the justice of every word you say. Still there are reasons 
why I hesitate; reasons you can’t understand and I can’t explain.” 

“If one of them’s a fear of Stark turning ugly,” suggested Nat, 
“Keane thinks that might be easily settled. He ’ll have far too much 
to do to look after his own skin, to care for damaging any one 
else’s” 

“Possibly; but I must be assured of safety before I stir a step,” 
returned Oliver. “You don’t suppose I’m going to run risks for 
other people’s benefit.” 

“Well, hardly ; but why not come and see Crosthwaite. That 
wouldn’t commit you to anything, and I’m muefi mistaken if he 
couldn’t clear up all your doubts. One thing you may be certain of. 


384 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


He mayn’t be as wide awake as the governor, but at any rate he’s 
a gentleman and a man of honor, and will tell you fairly how mueh 
he ean do. Dealing with him’s a very different job to dealing with 
Stark.” 

“That I fully believe,” replied Oliver, in a tone of conviction. “If 
I didn’t feel sure of fair play, I wouldn’t entertain the idea for a 
moment.” 

It is an old, old saying that the woman who hesitates is lost. 
Not less true is it, I imagine, that the man who halts between two 
opinions ends, in nine cases out of ten, by adopting the course that 
first caused him to waver. Oliver Blande’s case proved one of the 
nine. 


CHAPTER LIX. 

WANTED. 

At noon the day following Nat’s efforts to show Oliver where 
his true interest lay, the confidential agent was in close and secret 
consultation with Mr. Crosthwaite at that gentleman’s chambers 
in- Pump Court. 

Although the interview had already lasted above an hour, it 
seemed to have been hardly so productive of satisfaction to the 
solicitor as might have been supposed. The preliminary compli- 
ments that occupy, in trials at word-fence, the place of those initi- 
atory flourishes in sword-play by which the combatants try each 
other’s strength and endeavor to learn somewhat of the opponent’s 
method, had long been exhausted. Owing however to Oliver’s skill 
or caution, Mr. Crosthwaite found himself very little further ad- 
vanced than at first. If he threw out a feeler or put forward a 
suggestion, it was promptly met by a blank look of surprise, ashrug 
of the shoulders, a plea of want of memory. If he took a bolder line, 
and plainly asked Oliver what information he could give, the young 
man — while guarding against the admission that any was in his 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


385 


possession — retorted by a demand to know the purpose for which it 
was required and the way it would be used. 

The course adopted by Crosthwaite may perhaps have been 
owing to some acquired reluctance in the trained and astute legal 
intellect to go straight to an object it imagines may be more con- 
genially reached through devious and tortuous windings; it may 
have arisen from a nobler and more manly desire to measure wits 
with a foerpan worthy of his steel. Whatever the motive, it is cer- 
tain that, not until thoroughly convinced no single iota of the 
desired intelligence was to be extracted from Oliver by strategem — 
such strategy, be it remembered, as is always considered fair and 
allowable by the great mystery-mongers of modern times — not until 
persuaded he was only likely to arouse a suspicion he might sub- 
sequentl3^ find it impossible to allay, did he determine upon suddenly 
^changing his tactics, and advancing in more direct and open fashion 
to the attack. 

“Come, Captain Blande,’^ said the solicitor, a little irritably, at 
last, “suppose we take a hint from across the water and play cards 
upon the table. As men of business, both you and I must be well 
aware of the value of time. We only waste it by this kind of 
skirmishing.*^ 

With all my heart,** returned Oliver, slightly- smiling. “I very 
much prefer plain dealing, I assure you.** 

“Good. Then there *s something to agree upon as a starting-point. 
Between ourselves, I take it there’s no necessity to re-state the case. 
You know, as well as I can tell you, what we want. That informa- 
tion, we have excellent reasons for believing, is in your possession. 
The question is: Will you help us or will you not? Ay or nay.** 

“ Following the examble of your admirable frankness, my dear 
sir,’’ answered Oliver, “I say ay — upon conditions.’’ 

“Come, this is something like,” said Crosthwaite, rubbing his 
han^s. “ And those are ? ” 

“ First, perfect immunity for my share in any transactions that 
may have taken place.” 

“Second, guarantee against any accusation, by way of vengeance, 
.on the part of Stark.” 

“Ah-h-h-h!” ejaculated Crosthwaite, meditatively. “That’s not 
so easy.” 

“I never supposed it was,*’ replied Oliver, quietly. “But it is 


386 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


nevertheless so indispensable to my seeurity that, without some- 
thing of the sort, my lips are sealed.” 

Mr. Crosthwaite took several pinehes of snuff in quieksueeession 
while pondering how to surmount this awkward obstaele. Blande 
meantime kept silence, eoolly traeing a neat pen-and-ink sketch of a 
rema 4 *kably strong-looking iron grating, with a dolorous head peep- 
ing from behind the bars. 

“We can guarantee 3^ou against any ill effects arising out of this 
present business, if that would be sufficient,” suggested the solicitor. 

Oliver shook his head. “What I have to apprehend,” he replied, 
originated in something that happened half-a-dozen years ago. 
When I was very young and foolish, circumstances placed me in this 
man’s power. He has held the threat of disclosure in terorem over 
me ever since.” 

Mr. Crosthwaite pursed his lips into a lengthened whistle. 
“Evidence YQry strong? ” 

“ Overwhelming.” 

Crostliwaite bent his brows, and became absorbed in thought. 
Oliver calmly put the finishing touches to the doleful visage behind 
the prison gate. 

“Tell 3^ou what might be done,” recommenced the solicitor pres- 
ently, a bright idea breaking in upon his mind. “You come of a 
consumptive family, don’t you ? ” 

“Not that I’m aware of.” 

“Oh yes, you do. Your own lungs have been affected of late. You 
spit blood and sleep badly. You’ve been recommended to try the 
effect of a warmer climate, j^ou know.” 

“ Oh, have I? ” 

“ To be sure. It’s the medical opinion that a sea voyage and resi- 
dence for a few months in the United States will quite set you up 
again. You don’t object to America, I hope. Captain?” 

“Possibly not. Much depends upon circumstances.” 

“ Quite so. There’ll be no difficulty upon that score, rest assured. 
Before you leave, you shall make affidavit to all the facts you wish 
to communicate, and that will answer our purpose as sufficient evi- 
dence. You see the drift of the plan now, don’t you ? ” 

“Yes, and I think it promises well. Upon your pledging me yonr 
word as a gentleman to carry out the details, I will speak.” 

“Good. I promise.” 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


387 


Thereupon Oliver spake. Telling how he had obtained posses- 
sion of the will after Lee’s death, and placed it in the hands of Stark, 
he testified to the fact that at the period of its absraction it did not 
contain the codicil. This he substantiated by producing the copy he 
had made that same night, which, upon comparison, tallied word 
for word with that in Crosthwaite's possession. Two days before 
the funeral, he (Oliver) and Riggs were summoned to Clement’s Inn 
and orderecf to append their signatures as witnesses to an addition 
that had been made to the will, the purport of which neither saw. 
Stark keeping the contents covered. At that period Oliver w’as 
ready to swear the codicil was unsigned by any testator. 

Next morning Stark and Oliver posted to Lynn, putting up at an 
obscure tavern in a suburb of the town. Late at night Stark 
handed Oliver a parchment, with injunctions to place it in the chest 
at The Towers. Assisted by a mute of the great Panting, bribed for 
the occasion, access was gained to the library and the parchment 
deposited upon the spot whence it had been removed. Previous to 
so doing, however, Oliver contrived to steal a glance at the document, 
and was able to depose to its identity withr that witnessed by him- 
self and Riggs the previous day. It now bore the signature of 
Ralph Lee as testator. The scheme had nearly been frustrated by 
the unexpected wakefulness of Old Josh, whose strong nerves and 
capacity as a seasoned cask enabled him to recover more speedily 
than had been anticipated from the effects of the drug infused into 
his liquor by the mute. How the danger was surmounted we already 
know. 

Mr. Crosthwaite listened to these details with extreme interest, 
interrupting Oliver only at such times as the facts most clearly evi- 
dencing Stark’s complicity were told. These he contrived to get 
repeated, and then re-stated them himself, rather emphatically, with 
the object apparently of impressing them thoroughly upon his mem- 
ory. 

“The old man was right then, after all!” he exclaimed, when 
Oliver had finished. “His theory turns out as nearly as possible 
correct. — Excuse me one moment. Captain.” 

Mr. Crosthwaite rang the bell. 

“Tell Mr. Gilkes,” he said to the clerk who entered, “he can see to 
that matter I told him of. He knows what I mean. — Now, Captain 
Blande, you’ll of course not object to reducing your statement 


388 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


to writing, for fear of accidents, and will be good enough to sign it, 
before witnesses, as a provisional deposition.’^ 

Oliver raising no difficulty, the solicitor’s proposal was promptly 
carried into effect. A great weight seemed removed from Mr. Crosth- 
waite’s mind when the deposition was completed, and secured under 
lock and key in a drawer of his massive desk. . 

‘‘So far good,” said he, gleefully rubbing his hands. “That being 
satisfactorily settled, we ’ll pass to another branch of the subject. 
You are, I believe, acquainted with a certain Walter Grey. Can you 
give me any idea where that gentleman is to be found ? ” 

Oliver’s nerves were tolerably strong, we know, but the question 
was nevertheless so totally unexpected that he started as if he had 
received a heavy blow. 

“What — what on earthdoyou want with he stammered, the 

words seeming to drop as if half frozen from his pallid lips. 

“Nothing to make 3^ou look as if j^ou’d seen a ghost,” returned 
Crosthwaite, eying him curiously. “ Why, to judge from your ap- 
pearance 3"OU must take a mighty strong interest in that lucky 
3^oung fellow.” 

“He is mv — my dearest friend,” stuttered Oliver, confused. 

“ Is he, by Jove ? You ’re fortunate. Egad, I wish he was mine 
then,” replied the solicitor cheerfully. “However, perhaps he’ll be 
a future client, which is often better. Well, can you give me any 
clue to his whereabouts ? ” 

“I — I could, no doubt; if— if I knew why you wanted to find him.” 

“Ah, that ’s a professional secret. However, as after what has 
passed, it cannot remain one long, I may as well make a clean breast 
of it. Y^ou see, m}^ dear sir, the evidence you have just given, coupled 
with what we already possessed, places the invalidity — I may as 
well say at once, the forgery — of the codicil be3^ond a doubt. By 
this time” — here he drew forth his watch — “ unless my arrangements 
have failed. Stark is already in custody.” 

Oliver started to his feet with a cry of surprise. 

“ In custody, my dear sir,” repeated Crosthwaite, inhaling apinch 
at either nostril with intense enjoyment. “You see, we professional 
men in our humble wa3' are rather like dramatists. We lead the 
audience gradually up to our effects, and have our little surprises, 
with which we do our utmost to bring down the house. This hap- 
pens to be one. Your ^stpnishnient is a grateful tribute to its sue- 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


389 


cess. A man of your acuteness will readily admit that .slippery fish 
— I don’t mean to be personal — unless held very tightly, are apt to 
glide through yielding fingers. Your long association with that 
particularly slippery sturgeon Stark justifies any trifling precautions 
we may have thought advisable. You little thought now, I dare 
say, that while you were favoring me with your very interesting 
statement, Keane — ^you know Keane, no doubt; sharp fellow, Keane ; 
one of the acutest men of his class I ever met— was comfortably en- 
sconced behind that baize door, carefully noting all the salient 
points. He left in search of his game when I gave the signal, and I 
think there is very little doubt that by this time your respected em- 
ployer is in hands from which he ’ll n'ot find it easy to escape.” 

“You are prompt, sir, in your mode of action,” retorted Oliver, 
bitterly. “Not over trustful either. You might at least have 
waited ” 

“Until Captain Oliver Blande, guided by those second thoughts 
said to be best, had foiled our plans, ’’returned Crosthwaite, coolly. 
“Why, no, my dear sir. Judging from antecedents, we preferred 
making sure. Upon calm reflection, you ’ll probably admit we were 
right. Shall I proceed ? ” 

“Go on,” said Oliver, curtly. “I am in your hands.” 

“And quite safe, my dear sir. Every promise made 3^ou shall be 
kept to the letter. Well, you see, the case now stands thus. Stark’s 
forgery established, the original will becomes valid, by which the 
bulk of the property passes into the possession of Mr. Juan Lee.” 

“But he ’s dead years ago. Died in early 3'outh.” 

“We think not. We have evidencethat he, or rather Walter Grej, 
was alive and in perfect health three weeks back.” 

“What has Grey to do with the matter? Surely you don’t intend 
to suggest ” 

“That Walter Grey is identical with Juan Lee. Most certainly I 
do. Ah ! to be sure ; you were not aware of the fact. Dear me ! Our 
little surprises accumulate upon our hands. Well, I suppose I must 
go into further detail.” 

Mr. Crosthwaite proceeded, taking snuff the while with extra- 
ordinary gusto, to explain that Alice Mayne, now residing as com- 
panion at Paston Grange, had seen Walter Grey’s handwriting in a 
note delivered to Edward Blythe the morning of his death ; that she 
had ascertained from the messenger where the writer was to be 


390 


ALBANY starry S RBXENGB. 


found, had followed Blythe in the afternoon to the inn, and, unseen 
herself, had recognized Grey as he entered the house. 

“Where Rich saw you subsequently in conversation with the elder 
Blythe, my dear sir,” continued the solicitor. “This fact it is, 
indeed, that revealed to us your intimacy with Grey. For some 
reason we don’t know at present and you probably do — you see I 
treat you with perfect frankness — your friend saw fit to vanish from 
the neighborhood, leaving you to carry on the negotiations, what- 
ever they may have been, in his stead. Since that time all traces of 
him have been lost, and you ’ll allow therefore I ’m not very 
unreasonable in asking you to tell us where he is to be found.” 

“And you really positively mean to say that my friend Walter 
turns out to be the son of Captain Ralph Lee, and the heir to his 
fortune,” repeated Oliver slowly, as in disbelief. “Can you prove 
it ? Have you positive evidence ? ” 

“So clear and incontrovertible that I pledge my professional repu- 
tation to its accuracy,” returned Crosthwaite, pompously. 

“ However that ’s not the question now. May we reckon upon your 
assistance to discover you friend ? ” 

Heedless of the question or of its impatient repetition, Oliver sat 
with his hands clasped and his eyes fixed* upon the ground, utterly 
overwhelmed by the astounding revelation that had just been made. 
To Crosthwaite’s great surprise, its effect upon the confidential 
agent’s mind, seared and callous as he had good reason for believing 
it to be, was in a high degree appalling. His face alternately paled 
and flushed with intense emotion; his lips moved feebly, but no 
distinct sound issued from the parched and working mouth. Bend- 
ing his head closely, however, Crostwaite heard him mutter: “ My 
God ! how terrible! It’s retribution come at last.” 

“ By Jove I ” thought the solicitor. “There’s more good feeling in 
this fellow than I believed. Grey must have egged Blythe and his 
father on to their final quarrel, and this man’s actually sorry for his 
friend. Curious that even in the greatest scamp there’s always 
some redeeming point.” 

This reflection probably softened his tone in next addressing 
Blande. 

“ I can quite understand that your friend may have much to 
regret, but you may assure him from me there’s no disposition to be 
hard upon his past errors. His worst act, so far as we are aware — 


Albany stark^s revenge. 


391 


the embezzlement of Mrs. Mayne’s deposits at the Bank — has been 
condoned by Stark.” 

“Condoned!” cried Oliver, excitedly" starting np. “Why, my 
friend has always believed himself completely in Stark’s power.” 

“Not at all, my dear sir. A mere brutum fulmen on the part of 
Stark, to keep your friend in awe, but utterly baseless. I have made 
it my business to inquire into all the details of that matter, and find 
that the Bank has long been repaid the money, no doubt by Stark, 
who has since received the dividends under a power of attorney fo^* 
Miss Alice Mayne. So you see the fellow has been playing a double 
game : terrifying your friend and cheating the lady. We shall charge 
him with this as well as forging the codicil.” 

“Good God, is it impossible!” exclaimed Oliver. “Then poor 
Grey has been actually scared all these years at a shadow.” 

“So it seems. But you ’ll admit it was immensely clever. Scoun- 
drel as Stark is, one can’t help admiring his fertility of resource. 
Well, 3^ou ’ll have no objection now, I persume, to give us a clue to 
your friend ? ” 

“I’ll communicate with him at once,” replied Oliver, earnestly. 
“Within three days, Mr. Crosthwaite, depend upon it you shall see 
him face to face.” 


CHAPTER LX. 

HARD HIT. 

Oliver Elande’s first sensation upon leaving Mr. Crosthwaite’s 
chambers was one of unmixed delight. He was free! None but the 
slave for years can adequately gauge the perfect ecstasy with which 
lips* that have hitherto called another master for the first time pro- 
nounce those glorious words. To inscribe them upon the national 
banner men have fought and bled and died ever since the world 
began, are striving even now, and will doubtless fight on until the 
time when swords are beaten info plough-shares and the lion lies 
down with the lamb. The love of liberty is a passion so deeply 


392 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


planted in the human soul that centuries of misgovernment and op- 
pression are unable to root it out. As with nations, so with the 
individuals of which nations are composed. However servile and 
obsequious the inferior to his master — nay, probably on account of 
that very obsequiousness and servility — he never ceases to strive or 
plot for release while life animates his breast. 

Oliver’s delight in his recovered liberty was speedily succeeded by 
a feeling of overwhelming indignation at the fact — disclosed now for 
the first time by Mr. Crosthwaite’s remarks — that in reality that 
liberty had never been seriously endangered at all. What motive 
Stark had in repaying to the Bank the money originally embezzled 
by Walter Grey — whose identity with Oliver Blande you have of 
course long since divined — he was entirely at a loss to conceive. So, 
to say truth, am I ; save that the act probably formed part of a com- 
prehensive scheme, or perhaps series of schemes, whose aim was 
greatly simplified by his obtaining possession, through .Oliver, of 
Ralph Lee’s will. Whatever the motive, however, there was the 
fact, substantiated by Crosthwaite — a thoroughly independent and 
impartial witness, ignorant as yet of the immense importance of the 
circumstance to the man he addressed — whose testimony could not 
be doubted, and as the result, Oliver was free! 

Free, and more than free. Free from the consequences of his 
crime; free to enter upon the enjoyment of his father’s fortune; ancl 
— a liberty he prized in this, his first hour of enfranchisement, almost 
more dearly than all — free to turn the tables upon the tyrant by 
whom he had so long been enslaved: free to take vengeance upon 
Stark I 

The thought had hardly entered his mind, he had scarcely had 
leisure to subdue the quiver of exulation that thrilled through him 
at the idea, before the opportunity was offered to his eager hand. 

Turning the corner of a street, he came into sudden contact 
with Will Blythe and Josh, in close conversation with the detective 
Keane. Before Blande had time to draw back, the latter caught 
him by the arm. 

“The very gent we was a talking of! ” exclaimed the officer, draw- 
ing Oliver down a narrow court. “Step this way. Captain, half an 
instant. You know me, I dessay; at any rate, I do you. My 
name’s Keane.” 

“Have you taken him?” demanded Oliver, hastily, too much 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


393 


absorbed in bis purpose to take umbrage at the man’s familiarity. 
“Where is he ? Can I see him before he is brought into eourt ? ” 

“Dessay yon ean, sir,” returned Keane, with a wink at Will, 
“ when we get h^m. But where he may be just at present we want 
to know from you.” 

Keane went on to inform his interrogator that Stark was not to 
be found at his ehambers in Clement’s Inn, nor was Nat able to give 
any information as to his whereabouts. Could, and would Oliver 
communieate his employer’s private address ? 

“ It would n’t help you much if I did,” replied Blande. “ But I ’ve 
a shrewd guess where he is to be found, and I ’ll take you there upon 
one condition.” 

“Ay, Captain, and what may that be? ” 

“That you let me have a few minutes’ conversation with him first, 
before I give him up.” 

Keane shook his head. “No, you don’t. Captain. No giving 
your pal the office, and wondering then how on earth he could have 
took the alarm. That ’s clever, but it won’t do for us.” 

“Pish, man!” returned Oliver impatiently. “I’m as eager he 
should be taken as you can be. More. You ’ve only the paltry 
reward of a few pounds blood-money in view. I have the long- 
delayed retribution for years of fraud and oppression to exact. I 
must tell this crafty, sneering monster how I loathe and despise him, 
how I exult and triumph in his fall.” 

Keane emitted along whistle. There was a deep and heartfelt 
abhorrence in the young man’s tone, a settled determination in the 
vindictive gleam of his e3^e,.too evidently genuine to admit of further 
doubt. 

“Then you ’ve squared it with Mr. Crosthwaite,” said the officer. 
“Well, I thought you would. Stay you here just a minute with 
these gentlemen. Captain, while I go on and take his instructions. 
If he says ‘Go,’ I ’m your man.” 

Few words were interchanged between the waiting party during 
the officer’s absence. Honest Will Blythe was too deeply shocked 
at seeing a man he had supposed honorable, and with whom he had 
associated upon terms of friendship and equality, the intimate and 
ally of one so base as Stark, to be able to stammer out more than a 
few disconnected sentences in answer to Blande’s inquiries after the 
family at the Grange. Oliver did his best to brave out his position, 


394 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGL, 


but he felt the unspoken disgust of his companions keenly. Both 
parties were relieved when the officer returned. 

^‘All square, Captain,” was Keane’s greeting. ‘‘Push along. 
Sharp ’s the word.” 

Oliver leading, the party marched along at a rapid pace until 
they halted before a quiet, respectable-looking house in staid Great 
Ormond Street, at that time fast falling into the disesteem as a 
fashionable residence it has since completely attained. Oliver’s hand 
was upon the knocker when he was stopped by Keane. 

‘‘ You ’re sure he’s here ?” asked the officer. “Yes? Good. Then 
wait half a moment.” 

He held up his finger. A hackney-coach in waiting at that end 
of the street by which the party had entered drove slowly down and 
halted some two or three doors from the spot where they stood. A 
head looked out of the coach window, and nodded to Keane. 

“That’ll do,” said the detective. “If the game escapes our net, 
my mates ’ll nab him. Now knock.” 

Oliver obeyed. A sleek-faced, middle-aged man in black, with a 
cast in his e3a', answered the summons. To Blande’s question 
whether Mr. Mortimer was in, he replied with a respectful bow and 
a glance of suspicion at the young man’s companions. 

“These gentlemen will wait below for the present, Towle,” con- 
tinued Oliver. “ I ’ll mention your business above stairs, Mr. Hythe, 
and call you when necessary. Stay, Towle; don’t take up my name. 
Mr. Mortimer expects me.” 

He sprang up the broad, old-fashioned staircase as he spoke, and 
speedily disappeared. Towle threw open the door of a waiting room 
at the side, and marshalled the visitors to enter. Keane was the 
last. By a dexterous twist of the arm he whirled the astonished 
Mr. Towle from his post at the door handle, and had him prostrate 
upon the sofa, with a brawny hand over his mouth, in a twinkling. 

“One word above your breath, and you ’re a dead man!” 
whisiDcred Keane’s low stern voice into Towle’s startled ear, enforc- 
ing his threat with the argument of a pistol-muzzle. “Keep silence, 
and you are safe.” 

While this little bit of bloodless melodrama was enacting below, 
Oliver had made his way into the presence of Albany Stark. He 
found the solicitor sitting at a fixed desk-table covered with papers 
and letters, in the centre of a comfortable room. The place was 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


395 


fitted up as a library, books standing on the shelves that stretched 
from floor to ceiling round three of the walls. 

Pointing to a chair at a little distance, Stark was quietly con- 
tinuing to write when he was interrupted by Oliver’s furious voice. 

“Robber and villain, cheat, forger, and thief ! ” thundered the in- 
furiated man. “ Your many shifts are known, your wiles and tricks 
are betrayed, your cherished secret is told. The hour of doom is at 
hand.” 

“ Hey day ! ” cned Stark in undisguised amazement, wheeling back 
his chair from the desk and promptly facing his acciiser. “Why 
‘ this is Erclcs’ vein.’ What ’s the matter with the man ? Are you 
mad, my good fellow, or drunk ? Is it a case of mania or an over- 
dose of gin ? ” 

The thinly-veiled contempt expression in the harsh tones of his 
grating voice swelled Oliver’s rage to frenzy. Foam churned from 
his lips as from the mouth of a man suddenly stricken with epilepsy, 
and for a few minutes he was literally miable to bring forth a word. 
With characteristic quickness. Stark instantly availed himselfof the 
delay. 

“Another man would make you smart for this outbreak,” he con- 
tinued, narrowly watching his companion. “But indulgence has 
always been my foible, and I’ll not visit your folly too severely. Go 
home; sleep out your debauch; present yourself at the office to- 
morrow penitent and sober, and I’ll forgive your insolence. There; 
no thanks. Go at once, before I repent my clemency.” 

He waved his hand contemptuously, and drew up again to the 
desk with affected indifference. But a close observer might have 
seen the hand furthest from Oliver steal quietly into a drawer, 
abstract an article that it contained, and slip it unpreceived by his 
visitor into the pocket of his coat. 

Oliver had by this time to some extent recovered his self- 
possession. 

“ Fool !” he snarled savagely. “The time when this pretence o 
lofty superiority served you is gone — never, thank Heaven ! never to 
return. The worm kept down and crushed and trampled underfootf 
so many years turns now — and stings! You thought it a master- 
stroke — for I know your crafty spirit — to keep constantly before my 
eyes the consequences of that early crime you had yourself made 
good. Your cynical soul rejoiced in holding out a threat you knew 


396 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


could never be realised. It was intense enjoyment — such pleasure as 
only devils in hell can feel — to urge me on, by playing on my fears, 
to serve those mean and cruel stratagems by which you kept so 
many poor straj^ed wretches in your toils. But the delusion is past 
now. I know your impotence, and feel my’ strength; as you shall 
presently, as you shall.” 

“If I m to argue seriously with you,” returned Stark, very quietly, 
“I should like first to hear what the discussion is to be about. At 
present I’m at a loss to comprehend. You break in here, abuse me 
furiously, and, so far as you are intelligible at all, seem to threaten 
vengeance for some mysterious injury I am supposed to have done. 
What is your grievance? ” 

“ You ask — you!” sneered Oliver with a bitter laugh. “The far- 
sighted, experienced, ruse strategist still absolutely tries to keep on 
the mask, even when he feels it torn from his face. My grievance ? 
Damnation, man ! It s a wonder even your cold-blooded insolence 
dares to put the question. My grievance is, that you have made me 
your tool, the blind, helpless, unreasoning instrument of your vil- 
lanies, threatening me with exposure you knew you could n t carry 
out.” 

“Pray may I ask your authority for the wonderful statement, 
which I hear now for the first time ? ” 

“A name that will make even your hardened conscience tremble. 
What say you to Crosthwaite? Ah! have I hit you at last? Yes, 
Crosthwaite, who knows all, and has launched the avenger upon 
your track. ’ 

“And for such information as he fancies he possesses is indebted to 
your obliging garrulity, I presume,” returned Stark coolly. “Well 
you have chosen your own course and must take the consequences. 
I’m afraid you’ll find my power of retaliation greater than you sup- 
pose. I shall give you into custody at once.” 

He walked to the bell, and rang it hastil}". A rush of man3^ feet 
upon the staircase followed the sound. Instantaneously taking the 
alarm. Stark sprang to the door, eluding Oliver’s grasp, turned the 
key in the lock, and drew a heavy bolt across the jamb. 

Loud knocking upon the panels from without, succeeded b^" the 
cry : “Open the door this instant, in the Queen’s name ! ” 

Stark snapped his fingers contemptuously, placed his back 
against the door, and faced his pursuer with a determined eye. 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


397 


So your impertinence was not bravado, as I thought at first,’ 
he said slowly, keeping his gaze carefully fixed upon Oliver’s motions, 
“but mean and dirty treachery. To the accomplishments of the 
cheat, the sharper, and the blackleg, you have added the traitor’s 
crown. Why, even a dog is faithful to its master. Cur, take your 
reward!” 

In an instant he cleared the space between them with a vigorous 
bound, and struck, with a heavy elastic-handled weapon he shifted 
in the spring from his left hand to his right, hard and with unerring 
aim full at Oliver’s defenceless head. Taken by surprise as he was, 
the young man instinctively threw up his arm, and thus to some 
extent parried the stroke. Well for him, or that moment had surely 
been his last. As it was, the force of the blow beat down his guard, 
and stretched him senseless on the floor. 

Pausing for just a second to bestow a hearty kick upon the pros- 
trate body. Stark rushed to his desk, hastily took out a pair of 
pistols, and ran into the corner of the room. 

The loud knocking at the door had given place by this time to 
heavy and rapid blows from those who stood without. In another 
minute their united rush overcame the resistance of the bolt and 
lock, and they burst into the room. It was empty, save of Oliver’s 
senseless form! 

A bitter curse escaped the officer’s lips as he stooped over the 
motionless figure on the floor. 

“This comes of letting dandies take the lead!” he exclaimed. 
“ The blockhead ’s got his skin full, and I’ve lost my man.” 


CHAPTER LXI. 


UPON THE TRACK. 

At the time of which I write, the indispensible necessity of in- 
creasing the many roads by which more than half a million persons 
now daily enter and leave the- City was just beginning to be felt. 


398 


ALBANY STARirS REVENGE, 


Like an overgrown giant, London was slowly choking in its own 
girth. It had waxed so rapidly, swelled — even then — to such immense 
proportions that anomalies like tangled knots of little streets check- 
ing the circulation between large and spacious thoroughfares were 
fast becoming too inconvenient to be borne. 

Between Holborn and Oxford Street there lay a congeries of 
filtliA^, hideous lanes and slums the march of improvement has since 
indignantly swept away. In dismal mockery, the district had been 
nick-named the Holy Land. Apallingly dirty and disgusting, these 
passages, as a consequence science has long shown inevitable, were 
equally unhealthy and unsafe. Fever and epidemic periodically 
decimated their inhabitants. None but the squalid and the vicious, 
the ignorant and the vile dwelt in these plague-stricken spots. The 
well-dressed foot-passenger who unwarily entered any of these 
streetlets for the sake of a short cut or in the pursuance of lawful 
business rarely emerged from their labyrinth without injury to per- 
son or to purse. Either his coat had been torn off his back, or his 
pocket had been picked, or he'had been forced to purchase the right 
of passage by surrender of all the valuables about him, or he had 
evaded his assailants by swiftness of foot, or — if exceptionalh^ stal- 
wart — had fought his way through. The district was a terror even 
to the police. 

Few who now pass through New Oxford Street recall the time 
when the space occupied by the broad and commodious thorough- 
fare they tread formed the unlicensed Alsatia of the west. Relics of 
the bad old time however may still be seen in some of the smaller 
streets branching to right and left. There you may still descr^y the 
squalid, hollow-eyed, half-naked children fighting in the kennel with 
dogs for offal and garbage; still see the unkempt, dirty virago, with 
a blackened eye and a battered nose, leaning with arms akimbo 
against a door-post, screaming curses to her wrangling brood, or 
boozing vitriol at the nearest ginshop bar, still behold the slouching» 
brawny ruffain, whose downcast look and close-cropped poll betray 
his recent acquaintance with the prison shears and gaol, slink pipe in 
mouth along the pavement, poisoning the air with blasphemous and 
obscene imprecations for the coming of night because he feels himself 
unfit to look upon the day. You may see all this still, though it is 
vanishing fast, disappearing before the iron hand of the contractor 
and the engineer, who drive broad highways through these obscene 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE, 


399 


places, and let in Heaven’s first and choicest btessingvS — air and light. 

In one of the least disreputable alle^^s of this unsavory maze — 
Mount Court by name — lived periodically a personage «who has 
already played a small part in this history. When not fulfilling some 
mission of Stark’s away from the metropolis, Billy the cadger and 
tramp selected this salubrious locality as a congenial town resi- 
dence. 

As some notice of the place is essential, and as, further, those 
highly respectable persons who do not live in slums and cellars may 
like — if only for self-gratulation’s sake — to learn how very many low 
and common fellow creatures still unfortunately herd together in 
the great city in this immensely civilized age, a short description of 
the spot where Billy lodged will t^^pify the entire district. 

Mount Court contained perhaps some seventy tenements, vary- 
ing from one to two sfories high, a few having a squalid shop upon 
the basement, but all invariably a large cellar underneath. No ten- 
ement was occupied by a single family; all were crowded from attic 
to cellar with lodgers. Only the aristocrats of the neighborhood 
were able to aspire to the rare luxury of an entire room. In by far 
the majority of cases every apartment was tenanted by at least two 
groups of lodgers, and in very frequent instances by four, each group 
then occupying a corner. The fireplace and the centre were neutral 
ground, fought for by all, and held by the strongest. Nobody had 
any furniture, any goods, any clothes except the rags they stood up 
and slept in, any chattels of any description or kind. Whatever beds 
there may have been in the street were to be found at the flourishing 
ginshop with the ever-open doors perpetually upon the swing atone 
end, and the equally flourishing quasi-pawnbroker’s — in reality de- 
pository for stolen property — kept by a Hebrew gentleman of 
forbidding aspect at the other. 

The miserable wretch going out of the world and the perhaps 
more miserable infant coming iato it uttered the final groan and the 
first cry — which was the most lamentable is difficult to decide — not 
upon a couch of feathers, or upon a mattress of wool, or even of 
humble flock, but simply and literally upon the bare, naked, and 
grime-incrusted boards. Privacy, decency, and cleanliness were not 
merely impossible; they were unknown and undreamed of. To 
d^cribe the filthj the vermin, the depravity, the awful wickedness 
necessarily resulting would be too hideous, and even too incredible 


400 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


were their parallels not visible at this moment in similar plaees to 
whover ehooses to go and see. 

Billy«liad taken np his quarters in the cellar of a house whose 
basement was occupied by a general shop. Sordid and filthy as it 
was, the tenement was one of the most decent — because least crowded 
—in the court. The beggar shared his lodging with an Irish familj^ 
the niembers of which dispersed about town upon more or less honest 
occupations all day, and onl^^ came home to sleep at night. Gen- 
erally speaking, indeed, the cellars were not much liked as lodgings, 
owing to the rats, though what those sharp-toothed, hungry 
rodents found to devour would be difficult to say. 

That same afternoon which had witnessed the memorable inter- 
view of Oliver Blande with Mr. Crosthwaite, and the not less mem- 
orable but far shorter passage of arms between the 3^oung man and 
Albany Stark, Billy was seated on an inverted hamper near the 
bricken fireplace in the centre of his cellar, watching an iron pot 
slung to a chain depending from the roof. The pot contained Billy’s 
dinner — a mysterious pre]Daration of cow-heel and tripe, made tooth- 
some with onions — whose progress towards culinary perfection he 
superintended with interest waxing as the smell provoked his appe- 
tite. The cellar being destitute of chimney, the smoke from the wood 
fire eddied in volumes round the vault that would have nearly" choked 
an occupant less used to inhale its acrid vapor, and alter vainly 
seeking other outlet, finally made its escape up the steep stairs lead- 
ing to the street and from a grating opening upon the yard in rear 
of the premises. 

Peering into the pot, Billy surveyed the hubble-bubble of his 
viands, poked the cow-heel with a fork, and decided that another 
five minutes would find him busily engaged in its discussion. But 
alas for the vanity of human expectations! As it turned out, not- 
one atom of the savory mess that capacious vessel contained was 
destined to rejoice the cockles of this humble gourmand’s heart. The 
slip proverbially interposing between cup and lip intervened, and 
his Irish co-mates that night made merry upon the repast Billy had 
destined for his own refection. 

For, just as the watcher had unhooked his pot, and was in the 
act of turning its contents into a large blue and 3^ellow basin that 
served him for plate and dish, the aperture leading to the street was 
darkened, and the figure of a man rapidly descended the cellar steps. 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


401 


Missing his footing when within a short distance from the bottom, 
the figure stumbled, fell forward, and came with a crash and a curse 
upon hands and knees to the ground. 

“Now then, clumsy !” cried Billy, wrathfully. “That’s a jolly 
way to kim inter a jeddleum’s dinin’-room jist as he s a-goin’ to lay 
the cloth an’ set out the silver plate. Yhy couldn’t yer send to say 
yer vas a-comin’ ? Ye’d ha had a noo entrance built a-purpose for 
sitch a swell. Well! what d ’ye lay there a-groanin’ for? Get up an’ 
show yer ugly mug an’ open your gob-box, an’ tell us what you ’vc 
come about. Shan’t have any o’ my cow-heel though, so yer need n’t 
ast. Now then, tune up yer pipes. Go ahead ” 

The figure limped slowly to its feet, then turning a visage dis- 
torted by mingled pain and alarm upon the beggar, displayed to 
astonished Billy the features of Albany Stark. 

“Blarm my witals! ” cried Billy, starting forward and staring in- 
credulously into his visitor’s face. “Yhy if it ain’t the guv’nor.’’ 

“Hush!” motioned Stark, looking cautiously round. “Are you 
alone*" * 

“Me an’ the rats, master, ha*s got all the crib to ourselves.” 

“That ’swell. Now listen. I’m in a fix, out of which I want 
your help. That scoundrel Blande has nosed and brought the beaks 
upon me. Luckily I got away from Ormond Street in time. Unless 
— which I don’t expect— he’s able to put them up to this place, no 
one can possibly Suspect I ’m here. Tell me, where can I keep snug 
till dark ? ” 

“Hall right, guv’ner. I’ll pop yer into a little ’iding place vhere 
all the beaks in Lunnon von’t twig yer in a veek. But, I say — my 
wig! — that’s wery queer about the Captin, guv’ner. Actially nosed, 
did he ? An’ to the beaks. Dash me if I ’d ha’ thought he d been so 
low! ” 

Billy spat upon the ground in token of extreme disgust. His 
readiness to give assistance against his natural enemies, the police, 
was a great relief to Stark. 

“Look you, my lad,” said the refugee. “The game is up, but I 
care not. I’ve carried out in all essentials my long cherished plan. 
All that remains is to effect my own escape and to deprive these 
fools of further triumph. But you don’t understand these matters, 
1 see.” 


26 


y 


402 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


He drew elose to the mendieant, vStaring at him open-mouthed, 
and went on : 

“ It ’vS of the utmost importanee I should get to Clement’s Inn to 
night. Papers and various efFeets are in mv rooms I must destroy 
and earry with me. Go you out presently, and see whether the 
alarm has been given there, whether the poliee are in the plaee, 
whether I ean safely venture thither after dark. Assist metoeseape, 
and I ’ll reward 3^011 well. You know I ’m a good pay-master. Keep 
true to me to-night, and before we part you shall be rieher by fifty 
pounds than 3^ou are now. Do you eonsent ? ” 

Billy eut a eaper of delight that nearly' brought his head in eon- 
taet with the low-pitched roof. 

““Ra\ 4 her! ” he shouted exultantly. ‘‘I’d ha’ stuck to yer agin 
them blasted beaks through thick an’ thin for nothin’ anjdiow, but 
fifty cjuid! Guvnor, yer may kimmand the ’umble sarvices o’ the 
prophet Billy to his last drop o’ claret. My wig! Here’s a jolly 
go!” 

” Good,” returned Stark approvingly, shaking half-a-dozen sov- 
ereigns into his retainer’s palm. “Here is an earnest of what j 
promised. Now show me this hiding-place 3^011 spoke of.” 

While Billy and his quondam employer were sealing their bar- 
gain, the detective Keane and Will BWthe were doing their best to 
restore Oliver to conciousness. The moment his disaster was per- 
ceived, Josh had been dispatched for the nearest medical man. 
Keane meanwhile summoned his comrades waiting in the hackney- 
coach outside, and after effectuallv securing Mr. Towle, they pro- 
ceeded thoroughly to search the house. 

Nothihg of a nature requiring particular comment was found. 
The building had evidently been used by Stark, under the name of 
Mortimer, simply as a convenient place at which to give meetings 
to those he might not choose to know him in his legal guise. In the 
course of their researches, Keane discovered the mode by which 
Stark had contrived to slip through his fingers. A set of book-shelves 
in the corner of the room between the fire-place and the door were 
made to revolve upon hinges, and so to give access to the general 
stairs. Waiting in the recess therefore until the crash told him the 
door had been forced, Stark rapidly passed into the lower portion 
of the house, climbed a wall abutting upon the 3mrd of a public-* 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


403 


house in the street adjoining his premises, and was long since far 
beyond pursuit. 

“Neat dodge that,” said Keane, curtly, pointing out the device to 
his companions. “ Our only chance now is that he goes straight to 
Clement’s Inn. If he does, he’s booked. Follow on, Tom, and see.” 

The time occupied in the search had enabled the surgeon to bring 
Oliver back to life. Less injured by the blow than had been at first 
supposed, it was not long before he was able to sit up and under- 
stand the explanation given by Will of Stark’s escape. When he did, 
his fury found vent in hideous imprecations and cries to be revenged. 
Repeatedly the surgeon was obliged to caution him to moderation, 
if he would avoid dangerous consequences resulting from his hurt. 
Oliver was so ardently bent upon retaliation that he was not to be 
controlled. 

“ What do I care ? ” he shouted. “ Let me live only long enough to 
see this scoundrel taken, and I ’ll die content. Keane, Keane ; where ’s 
Keane ? Fetch him here. I ’ll put him on the scent.” 

The officer came. A grave and serious look spread over his 
shrewd, determined face when Oliver imparted his strong belief the 
fugitive would be found in Mount Court. He would fly there in- 
duced by the fact that no one would suspect a man of his position 
familiar with the haunts of the most abject, and by the still further 
circumstance that he would find a ready helper and assistant in the 
vagrant Billy. 

“Ah, Billy the cadger, you mean!” ejaculated Keane. “I know 
the bloke. An ugly ragged rascal —perfect mask o’ dirt and vermin. 
Billy the Soft, some call him ; precious deal more rogue than fool 
though, I fancy. If Billy’s a pal, then I should say it’s pretty 
certain. But Mount Court, Captain! Why, the place is a perfect 
rabbit-warren for hiding-holes. I shall have to take nigh upon fifty 
men to stop ’m up effectual.” 

“No matter if you take a hundred ! ” exclaimed Oliver, passionately. 
“I ’ll make it worth your while. He must not, shall not escape. 
Listen here, man. This fellow taken and his forgery proved— as I 
can prove it and will — a large fortune comes into my hands. Each 
engaged in the chase shall have twenty pounds, and I’ll pay the 
man who captures him a thousand within a week ! ” 

“ You, Captain?” inquired Keane, with an incredulous grin. 

“ I. If you don’t believe me, ask Crosthwaite. Tell him I promise 


404 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


it in the name of Walter Grey. Mind, I^m in earnest. A thousand 
to the man who takes Stark alive ? ” 

“ By Gad, that ’s tempting ! ” cried Keane, startled into belief. If 
you ’re not kidding us on. Captain, that thousand shall be mine. 
But remember, if you lead us into a trap, there ’ll be a heavy reckon- 
ing to pay. Broken heads ’ll be plentiful, and meiyhap loss of life. 
The guilt will rest with you.” 

‘‘I swear to you, man, by everything that’s good and holy, I’ve 
told you nothing but truth. Go to Crosthwaite. He knows that I 
can keep my word. Lose not a minute. What you do must be done 
at once, or the chance will be lost.” 

‘‘Make 3^our mind easy then. Captain,” returned Keane, resolutely 
starting up. ” That thousand will be earned to-night, and Stark 
shall sleep in jail.” 


CHAPTER LXII. 

' BROUGHT TO BAY* 

Like an experienced general, Keane took his measures effectively 
and well. By dusk of that October evening the inhabitants ut 
Mount Court Rookery were startled from their various pursuits bv 
a sudden invasion. Without further notice than a couple of shrill 
whistles following in rapid succession, both ends of the court were 
simultaneously closed by a strong body of armed police. Neither 
man, women, nor child was suffered to pass in nor out. The con- 
sternation was universal , the alarm spread like the Fiery Cross 
through Highland clans upon the eve of a revolt. 

Up from the cellars and from every story of each thickly-populated 
hovel swarms of terrified ragamuffins poured into the alley to learn 
the cause of this unusual and extraordinary blockade. Fear is some- 
times as great an incentive to daring as courage, and terror rendered 
these conscience-stricken vagrants positively brave. No man felt 
sure that he or his was not the object of the hunt. Gathering into 
sullen groups, the men stood glowering upon the invaders, while 


ALBANY STABK^S REVENGE, 


405 


the females gave tongue with noisy objurgations, and the children 
followed their progress down the alley with shrill halloas and yells, 
mixed with the delight this species of brat invariably feels in any- 
thing promising a row. 

“ Back all ! ” commanded Keane, marching at the head of his men 
down the alley to clear the way. “Tis n’t any of you are wanted 
this time. Keep quiet, and not a man jack of you ’ll come to harm 
— Now men, begin here. Two go through each room, and two take 
the cellars. Search thoroughly ; don’t leave a corner untried. The 
instant you see anything suspicious, call me.” 

Thus the quest began. • 

The hiding-place Billy had selected for Stark was one apparently 
simple, but in reality almost impossible to find, without exact know- 
ledge of its position. The cellar in which the mendicant lived, like 
all its brethren, was lighted from front and rear. In the front, 
access was gained from the pavement by steep wooden steps, 
capable of removal when the inmates pleased, and leaving then a 
yawning gap, down which an intruder must necessarily fall, and 
probably break a limb. The cellar stretched thence underneath the 
house, its roof supported upon joists and horizontal beams against 
which the unwary, running in the darkness, might easily crack his 
skull. Failing this peril, he was brought up suddenly by a wall form- 
ing apparently the end of the vault. High up in this wall was agrat- 
ing, giving upon the narrow yard without, and lighting the cellar 
from the rear. The yards were backed by a long, high partition, 
cutting them off from the adjoining alley. 

But the wall apparently closing the cellar at the back was not 
its actual limit. Behind that wall there was a narrow passage, 
some three feet wide by about six in height, extending partly under- 
neath the yard, and running behind the cellars from end to end of the 
court. Each cellar opened into this passage by a narrow slit to the 
height of about five feet in the wall, through which a man of more 
than ordinary girth could not possibly squeeze. The slit however, 
closed towards the roof, being out of the line of such dim light as 
entered the vault from the court and the yard, and being moreover 



wall, 


overlapped in front, thus, 


was undiscoverable except upon the very closest examination. 


4U6 


ALBANY SHARK'S REVENGE, 


It will be obvious therefore that a fugitive, once ensconced in this 
ingenious lurking-place, could traverse the lineof the cellars from end 
to end; discover, by listening behind an impenetrable screen, the 
precise spot his pursuers had attained ; then, passing onwards, could 
quietly emerge at one termination, while he was being eagerly sought 
for at the other. 

Stark was by this means quite aware of the exact progress mak- 
ing by his hunters as the search went on. As luck would have it, 
the quest had been commenced at that end of the alley nearest the 
house underneath which Billy’s cellar passed. No trace of the 
fugitive being there discovered, the noise and turmoil of pursuit had 
gradually died away. Still, it would not be safe yet to venture 
forth. Besides, he was compelled to wait Billy’s return and report. 

Unconscious of the dangers in preparation, the vagrant had left 
the Rookery only a few minutes before the unforeseen descent of the 
police. Cautiously stealing through back roads and by-ways lead- 
ing to Clement’s Inn, he found, upon reaching his destination, the 
chambers in possession of the police. Nothing but a clever assump- 
tion of the most impenetrable stupidit3% from which no intelligible 
answer could be obtained, saved Billy from detention. Preserved by 
his presence of mind, and the not unnatural reluctance of the officers 
to lay hands upon an object of such exceeding evil savor, he hurried 
back with the unwelcome news of the occupation of his premises to 
Stark. 

Arriving within half an alley of his jail, outlying .scouts on the 
watch for heedless friends warned him of what had taken place. A 
less enterprising man would have at once abandoned further effort 
to aid Stark in despair. Not so Billy. Led on by the glittering bait 
of the promised reward, helped by his own strong wish to baffie the 
detested beaks who had so often balked his attempts to live easily 
at other folks’ expense, he set his naturally sharp wits to work, and 
speedily hit upon a daring, if not an original scheme. 

You will remember that a Jew pawnbroker occupied a house at 
one end of the wretched alley dignified by the name of Mount Court. 
With this man Billy was upon intimate terms. It had often been in 
his power to cast cheap bargains into the Hebrew’s capacious maw, 
and what better title can any one possess to favor with the chosen 
people ? The pawmbroker’s shop, occupying a corner, had of course 
two entrances — one in the alley itself, the other in the adjacent lane. 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVBNGE. 


407 


The door in the alley was blockaded by the party of police there 
keeping guard, but the generalship of the astute commander — intent 
upon the prize he expected to find lower down — had omitted to 
secure the second outlet. This oversight cost him dear. 

Mixing with the group of sullen Rookeryites hovering around 
the police, Billy seized his opportunity to slip in through the dark- 
ness at the unguarded entrance to the shop. In half a minute more 
he was deep in the recesses of the house, engaged in eager conversa- 
tion with Moses Salmon. 

“Could n’t do it, ma tear,” returned the Jew, shrugging his 
shoulders and spreading out his hands in deprecation of Billy’s pro- 
posal. “Shpose they tvigs vhere yer got the rig-out? Vhat ’uld 
become o’ poor old Mosey then ? ’Appy t’ obleege yer vith any- 
think elshe.” 

“ Look ’ee here, old son,” returned Billy persuasively. “ Yhot d’ ye 
think o’ that to begin vith, eh?” — pushing a couple of sovereigns 
into the Jew’s hand — “an’ a tenner to-morrer. Now ? ” 

“Honor bright, mind,” saidMoses, yielding to the soft comxjulsion. 

“Yer von’t shplit ? ” 

“Split, to them beaks! Not if I was tored by vild Jeerusalems ! ” 

And the bargain w^s completed. 

Some five minutes afterwards, a policeman stepped out of the 
door at which Billy had entered, armed and accoutred at all points 
precisely like tho.se of his brethren who had already occu^Died the 
court. The man looked up the lane, then sauntered up to join the 
party on guard. 

By this time the whole of the tenements and cellars on both sides 
of the alley had been searched, without yielding the desired result. 
No traces whatever of the fugitive were to be found. Keane was 
livid with disap^oointment and rage. He came rapidly up to the 
party stationed by Moses Salmon’s door. 

“A pretty fool’s dance you’ve brought us on. Captain,” he 
grumbled angrily to a figure in a watch-coat like the rest of the con- 
stables, but differing from them in wearing a light cloth cap in place 
of the regulation chimmey-pot then in vogue. “He is n’t here, and 
never has been. There ’ll be an awful row at head-quarters.” 

‘ Are you certain your men have searched thoroughly ? ” demanded 
Blande, drawing him aside. “Have they looked well between the 
double walls? ” 


408 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


“ Double wfells ! Where d’ ye mean ? ** 

“Aha! You’re not fly then. Listen here.” 

The explanation given, Keane recommenced his task with 
renewed hope of success. Calling his men together, he stationed the 
majority in a long line, extending down the centre of the alley, so as 
to cut off all communication between the inhabitants of either side. 
Then he repeated his former order for careful search, but now in the 
new hiding-place. 

Five men were ordered into the first hovel opposite the pawn- 
broker’s — two to re-examine the basement and upper story, the 
other three to proceed cautiously from cellar to cellar along the road 
w;hose existence Oliver had pointed out. In the slight confusion 
consequent upon this change of plan, the policeman who had issued 
from Moses Salmon’s door in the lane managed to slip into the fore- 
most cellar as one of the examining party. 

Hurrying in advance along the hidden path until became beneath 
the house where Billy lived, theman halted at that spot and uttered 
a cautious whistle. A low reply was heard in his immediate front, 
accompanied by a sharp click — the cocking of a pistol. 

“ Hall right, guvnor ! ” whispered the policeman. “ ’Tis only me — 
Billy. Don’t fire I” 

In a few rapid sentences, the vagrant acquainted Stark with the 
position of affairs without, and confided to him his plan for escape. 

“Slip on these here peelers’ togs,” he concluded. “Coat an’ 
breeches — now the belt, bull’s-eye an’ cutlash. Shove the truncheon 
into your pocket. Quick along to the end. Slip out then an’ mix 
with, them beaks in front. This ’ere kid ’ll get up a ruction among 
the Irishers, an’ 3"OU must manage to slip off in the row.” 

No sooner said than done. Emerging from a cellar many paces 
further down. Stark found no difficultv in taking up his place in the 
line of constables keeping the inhabitants' apart. Billy meantime 
crept out at his own cellar-trap, and slinking up the alley, at once 
began to fan the sparks of indignation at the invasion of their 
privacy smouldering in the breasts of the legitimate dwellers. 

His promptings were like the touch of fire to straw. At a signal 
from their self-constituted chief, the guerillas of the Rookery vented 
a ferocious war-whoop, and catching up the nearest implements that 
could be improvised into weapons of offence, commenced a tre- 
mendous onslaught upon the foe. Fire-irons, saucepans, and kettles 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE, 


409 


were rained upon the heads of the devoted police. Be an Irishman 
as poor as he may, some substitute for the national shillelagh he is 
sure to possess. Clubs, bludgeons, and knotted stick of every shape 
and weight were drawn from hiding places and employed to batter 
the detested invaders. Billy began the battle by felling six feet of 
policemen with a blow from a dilapidated poker. 

Once initiated, the combat soon grew desperate. The police used 
their truncheons freely, and afterwards, finding these not sufficiently 
effective, drew the cutlasses always worn by men on duty in the 
Rookeries. Broken heads were succeeded by gashed faces, the howl 
of infuriated savagery gave place to the 3'^ell of overweighted disma^^. 

“Stand firm at the ends there shouted Keane to the parties 
blockading the extremities of the alley. “ Keep every one in ; bar all 
fresh comers out. Now, men, charge together. Drive these varmint 
into their dens, and clear the path. Steady, steady! Don’t use 
violence unless attacked.” 

Firmly and gradually closing up to the houses on either side, disci- 
plined order soon prevailed over wild and irregular attack. Within a 
very short time the revolters were quelled, and the alley freed from 
all save the police. 

Keane’s foresight in directing the outer guards to let no man 
pass, iiroved fatal to Billy’s plan that Stark should slip through in 
the confusion. It is possible however that he might nevertheless 
have succeeded in ultimate escape, but for an outburst of savage 
temper to which he unwarily gave way. To avert suspicion, he had 
joined readily in the resistance offered by the police to the sudden 
attack, and was of course instrumental in driving the “varmint” to 
their dens, in accordance with Keane’s order. One of the last to 
drop into his cellar was an agile, half-naked Irishman, who had been 
particularly prominent in the fighl. Running up the ladder again, 
this man thrust his body half out of the trap, and shouting out a 
curse upon the “durty paylers,” fixed his teeth in the nearest 
constable’s leg and worried it as if he were a dog. The bitten man 
was Stark. 

Roused to sudden passion by the sharpness of the pain, and for- 
getful for a moment of his assumed character, Stark swore a power- 
ful oath, and cut his assailant over the head with the cutlass he had 
not yet returned to its sheath. The Irishman fell back with a cry 


410 


ALBANY STARICS RBVENGB. 


that he was kilt, and a piercing wail was instantly set np by Uls 
wife and comrades below. 

Keane happened to be close by at the moment this occurred. 
His attention was caught by the words and tone of Stark. He 
thought it singular that an ordinary policeman should style an an- 
tagonist “accursed devil’s spawn,” and walking quietly up to the 
peccant constable, turned his bull’s-eye full upon the downcast face. 
In a second his sharp eye recognized the man he sought. 

“ In the Queen’s name! ” he shouted, springing upon his prey, and 
grasping at his collar. 

But Stark was quicker than his would-be captor. An agile 
backward spring carried him in an instant beyond the reach of 
Keane’s outstretched arm, and he dived next moment out of sight 
into Billy’s cellar. 

Out of sight, but not out of danger. The detective’s cry had 
brought a dozen others to the spot, who marked the place where 
the fugitive had disappeared, and started instantly in hot pursuit. 

“ Back, men I ” cried Keane. “He’smine! Let me at him. Follow 
if you like, to prevent escape, but I’m the first.” 

Dashing cutlass in hand down the ladder, the officer ran his 
quick eye in a moment round the black, bare walls, then plunged 
into the hinder passage whither the sound of running footsteps told 
him his man had fled. Winding in and out, now through a cellar 
filled with swearing occupants who did their utmost to help the 
fugitive and impede his pursuer, now back along the dark recess, 
dashing against walls, squeezing through openings, doubling hither 
and thither, as the swift greyhound follows up the shift\’^ turnings 
of the agile hare Keane followed hot-foot and untiringly upon the 
flying man’s track, and came up with him at last in one of the 
vaults. 

“ Surrender !” he cried, seizing Stark by the arm. “Escape’s im- 
possible ; resistance useless. Surrender quietly, or I ’ll cut you down ! ” 

“Not with my consent,” returned stark, grimly. “ You shall have 
no triumph to boast of, at any rate. Fool, take your reward.” 

As he spoke he fired full into Keane’s chest. The flash lit up the 
startled faces of the motley crew around, and the report reverber- 
ated through the confined space with a sound like thunder. 

The officer sprang up with a loud cry. 

“I’ve got my gruel I ” he stammered. “ Seize him, men ! ” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


411 


Then fell upon his face, rose to his kneefora minute in convulsion, 
and rolled over — dead. 

Like a hunted lion brought to bay, Stark faced the semi-circle of 
the gathering police, keeping them off with the threat of his remain- 
ing pistol. 

“Now then, who ’ll be the next ” he shouted. “ Back, if you love 
your lives. The first of you who lays a hand upon me, dies.” 

Awed by their leader’s fate and the determined aspect of his mur- 
derer, the men gave back for a moment in not unnatural dismay. 
Availing himself of the pause. Stark cast a rapid glance around in 
search of a possible chance of escape, drawing slowly back towatds 
the ladder leading to the street. But the rashness of his too-faithful 
ally proved his ruin. 

Billy had followed outside the progress of the chase within to the 
best of his ability. Drawn by the report of the pistol to the scene 
of the catastrophe, his sharp eye took in the situation in a moment. 
Hurtling head-foremost down the ladder, he threw himself between 
Stark and his pursuers, and dashed at the police to divert their 
attention. 

“ PIup the ladder, guvnor !” he whispered hoarsely to his chief. 
“ ‘ Tis yer only chance. Hurroo ! Down with the paylers, boj^s ! ” 

While the Irish in the cellar engaged the police with evident de- 
light, Stark darted up the ladder, and fell into the hands of the 
strong party watching without. Prompted by Oliver, they seized 
him before he could offer further resistance. Bare-headed and breath- 
less, he was instantly disarmed and handcuffed, and in a second 
more was hurried away. 


CHAPTER LXIIl. 


billy’s mishap. 

The desperate devotion shown by Billy in his attempt to effect 
his employer’s rescue from the hands of the Philistines — even at the 


412 


ALBANY STABICS REVENGE, 


eleventh hour — had proved as useless to Stark as it was damaging 
to himself. Borne down and overpowered by sheer weight of num- 
bers, very few minutes sufficed to exhaust his powers of offence, and 
place him, a panting, breathless captive, at the mercy of the men he 
had provoked. 

Nor will it be thought untrue to life to chronicle that the saga- 
cious police displayed their wonted discrimination in the treatment 
of their prisoners. Stark, infinitely the greater criminal even before 
the last crowning act of his monstrous career, a thousand times less 
excusable than the vagrant, because intellect and education should 
ha®ve proved his safeguards against temptation and prevented his 
lapsing into crime, was treated with deference and consideration, 
escorted in a hackney-coach to the police station, assigned a separ- 
ate cell, supplied with mattress and bed, and allowed every possible 
comfort that could be improvised or that money, under the circum- 
stances, could afford. Billy, on the other hand, the miserable, 
ragged, untaught town Arab, whose one virtue was the fidelity 
the dog shows to its master, steeped from his birth to the 
lips in every species of vice engendered by abject and sordid poverty 
having dared to lay sacrilegious hands upon the ineffable majest^^of 
the watchcoated ministers of the law was hustled and kicked along 
the pavement — police knuckles digging into his throat, police trun- 
cheons poking his ill-clothed carcass in back and ribs, police voices 
vehemently abusing his “ cussed imperence” and promising to “make 
it jolly hot’’ for him when brought before the judgment-seat upon 
the morrow ; then, lugged before stern sergeant Minos complacently 
ensconced behind a pigeon-hole, had his misdeeds recorded in the book 
of Fate, and was flung head-foremost into an already over-crowded 
stone cell to lick his wounds and bruises as his prototype, the afore- 
said dog, is taught by Nature to salve accidental hurts. 

But then, you see, Albany Stark was a respectable man, a gentle- 
man, occupied a position, wore superfine broadcloth, and had money 
in his purse. Although a criminal, he had devoted himself to crime 
upon an extensive scale, and was looked up to by his captors with a 
certain reverence and awe. He had slain a man, and had already 
come to be considered an object of interest. Billy was simply a dirty, 
verminous ragamuffin, with never a shoe to his foot or a shirt to his 
back; a “cheeky” ruffian who gave back “chaff” for abuse, and re- 
turned oath for oath; a penniless, contemptible Pariah who had 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


413 


ventured to contaminate with his leprous touch members of a supe- 
rior caste; in short, to carry out the former parallel, a dog of the 
lowest and most despicable type of dogs — a mangy, utterly worth- 
ies and disreputable, mongrel cur. 

It was the old story of the difference between the great com- 
mander who sacrifices hectacombs of lives, and the single man who 
strikes with a revengeful knife ; between the speculative millionaire, 
whose failure desolates a thousand homes, and the underpaid post- 
man with an ailing wife and many children who purloins a letter 
containing sixpence. One is a hero, the other an assassin; one re- 
ceives a testimonial from his creditors, the other is transported as a 
thief. 

Pretty much the same distinction between the two prisoners 
was observed when they were brought up next morning for exam- 
ination at Bow Street. The experienced reporters sharpened their 
pencils and exhausted their powers of word-painting in depicting 
Stark’s appearance and demeanor at the bar while they paid scant 
attention to his comrade in guilt. They dwelt upon the solicitor’s 
looks, his gestures, and his clothes; they reproduced word for word 
his cross-examination of the witnesses ; they carefully noted every 
scrap of intelligence bearing upon the absorbing case. The news- 
papers published second editions, containing a full report of the 
proceedings for the special delectation of their readers; not huddling 
it up among the usual police intelligence of the day, but giving due 
prominence to a mattersostrongly affecting the well-being of Society 
at large by printing the details in a separate column, and in leaded 
type, under a series of sensational headings in capital letters. At- 
tractive placards were posted outside the newspaper offices, and 
hundreds of small boys pervaded the streets, crying : 

“Arrest of an Eminent Solicitor upon the charge of Forgery ! 
“Murder of the Detective Keane by the Delinquent in the Act of 

Capture ! ! 

“Attempt at Rescue, and Great Riot in the Rookery! ! ! 

“Examination at Bow Street this day! ! ! ! 

“Full details. Therefore — buy the Evening Scree.chowl.” 

Thrills of delicious horror rippled down the backs of thousands 
of otherwise kind-hearted Christian men and women, when perusing 
the narrative. Nervous mothers of households looked with partic- 


414 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


ular attention, that night, to all the fastenings being perfectly secure, 
and even strong-minded Patresfamiliarum to3^ed with the bed-room 
poker, while they whisked aside the valance, and cast a furtive 
glance beneath the nuptial couch. 

Comparatively little progress was made with Albany Stark’s 
case upon his first examination. The charge of forgeiw, upon which 
he was originally captured, merged at once into the graver accu- 
sation of the murder of Keane. After taking evidence as to the fact, 
the magistrate adjourned the proceedings to await the result of the 
inquest and the report of a medical man upon the cause of death. 
Stark was meanwhile remanded to Newgate. 

Billy was then placed at the bar, charged with an attempt to 
rescue Stark and with assaulting the police. It will behest, perhaps, 
to give the account of the proceedings in this case published late 
that evening in the trustworthy columns of the Scvcechowl. 

“The attempt at rescue.— Scene in court.— When the mur- 
derer had been removed in custody, the wretched-looking object who 
attempted to effect his rescue took his place. Rarely has so revolt- 
ing a sight as this degraded being been beheld, even at a police-court- 
bar. Long matted hair that seemed never to have felt thetonsorial 
shears hung in irregular flakes far over his shoulders and down his 
back. His features were totally unrecognizable through the thick 
mask of dirt by which they were encrusted, their natural hideous- 
ness being enhanced by blood-streaks from injuries received in the 
affray. A pair of glittering black eyes and the white teeth that 
gleamed out of his face when he spoke or laughed seemed to betray' 
gipsy origin, though his accent was strongly Irish. Description of 
this singular creature’s dress is impossible. It was simply a series 
of the filthiest imaginable rags, held together by some ingenious and 
m^'sterious contrivance we are at a loss to divine. His appearance 
altogether rather resembled what we may suppose Robinson 
Crusoe’s to have been before he took to goat-skins, than that of a 
human being — evidentl3" not devoid of intelligence — dwelling in the 
great metropolis of this civilized country. 

“When this individual was placed at the bar, the clerk of the 
court demanded his name. 

Prisoner: Shure tis Billy they calls me. 

Clerk: Billy what? 

Prisoner: Billy the Prophet, jer honor (Laughter). j 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


415 


Magistrate: What does he mean ? 

“One of the constables explained that the prisoner was often con- 
sulted by the ignorant Irishwomen in the Rookery as a fortune-teller. 
Me was known to the police as Billy the Soft, the name being given 
ironically, as he was really particularly sharp and acute. 

''Prisoner (in a whining tone) : Shure an’ ’tis all lies them fellers 
is tellin’ your honor’s gracious glor3^ ’Tis well they know I’m a 
poor ijjit from afore my birth, ^uir worship, as finds it hard to ^mrn 
a ’onest crust. Will I lay the carruds for ^^er lordship ? 

“Here the prisoner produced a grimy pack of cards from some 
inscrutable corner of his habilaments, spread them out before him 
at the bar, and amidst the loud laughter of the spectators offered a 
hand to the worth^^ magistrate. 

“His worship ordered him to take up the cards, and allow the 
case to proceed. 

"Prisoner: Ah, faith, now, an’ ’t isn’t a handsome good-looking 
jontlema w like 3"ourself as ’ud b’lieve a word o’ them man-slaughterin’ 
pa3ders against a poor nat’ral. Shure and I wasn’t nigh twenty 
mile o’ the crib at all at all. 

"Magistrate: Then how did 3"OU come by that blood upon your 
face? 

“ Prisoner (putting up his hand in affected astonishment) : An’ is 
it blood, yer worship? Shure an’ I don’t see none, an’ I don’t feel 
none. ’T is the bames of the blissid sun as dazzles 3"onr honor’s 
peepers. Fetch a tallyscop’ for his worship, ye varmints, an’ a 
lookin’-glass for the Prophet Billy (laughter). 

“The worth3^ magistrate repeated his order for silence, and several 
of the police gave evidence, amidst constant interruptions, denials, 
and mingled cajolery and abuse from the prisoner, to his having 
violently assaulted them in his attempt to rescue Stark. 

"Magistrate: Well, prisoner, what have you to say to all this? 

'^Prisoner (coaxingly): Arrah now, ’tis jokin’ ye are. Shure an’ 
’tis all moonshine them fellers is tryin’ to bamboozle yer vorship 
wid. Is it the like o’ Billy ’uld ’sault a jontleman payler? Divil a 
haporth. ’T is the paylers is Billy’s best frinds. It’s love an’ riv- 
rance an’ honor and glory ’em he would, an’ tell ’em their shplendid 
fortun’s, an’ lay ’em the prattiest carruds, an’ put ’em up to all the 
bits o’ fakements they wasn’t jist fly to. Ah now, ’tis yer lordship’s 
koind heart consints.' Shure ’tis the rale good blood as ’ud never 


416 


ALBANY STARRY S REVENGE. 


set its fut upon the ijjit an’ the orphinx. ’Twas only a bit o’ divar- 
shun yez was havin’ with Billy. So I’m thinkin’ I ’ll wish ye good- 
marnin’ an’ long life, an’ may the hivens in glory be yerbecl, anivery 
blessin’ attind the paylers, an’ lots o’ luek, an, a divartin’ bit ov a 
ruetion ivery night o’ their lives. Stan’ out o’ the way, ye varmints ! 
Don’t yer see his lordship’s dishmished the ease? 

“The prisoner was marching impudently from the bar when he 
was brought back by the constables. 

Magistrate: Stop, stop; not so fast, my man. The case is clear. 
For the attacks upon the police you will go to prison one month for 
each assault— four in all — with hard labor. And don’t let me see 
you here again. 

“This sentence effected a great change in the prisoner’s behavior. 
He burst into a violent storm of the coansest abuse, resisted the 
officers who tried to remove him from the court, rushed back to the 
bar and shook his fist at the magistrates, and finally thrusting his 
hand into his pocket, produced some coins, which he flung with all 
his force at his worship’s head. The magistrate fortunately evaded 
the missiles, and the prisoner was instantly seized. He was brought 
back to the bar and sentenced to an additional three months forthe 
outrage, the money (four soverigns) to be applied to his mainten- 
ance while in jail.” 

Thus far our friend of the ScreechowL But even his graphic 
account does not convey a completely faithful picture of the woes 
that fell upon Billy. To understand these fully we must accompany 
the vagrant to the House of Correction, where he stood shivering in 
the stone hall after his ejection from the police van that had brought 
him from the court. 

The first ceremony a prisoner undergoes in his abode of chastise- 
ment is the registration of his offence and term of punishment, 
followed by his assignment to a cell ; but the next — and that which 
is felt by many as the direst and most unbearable — is the primary 
and indispensable necessity of the bath. 

Figure to yourself the utter horror and dismay of Billy, who had 
never been known to wash himself in the memory of the eldest 
Rookeryite; who had worn his unseemly coat of grime until it sat 
upon him as easily, warmly, and conveniently as a well-fitting 
glove; who had never suffered anythinginthe shape of steel to come 
near his flowing locks; — imagine his disgust, his consternation, his 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


417 


positive furj when he found that an essential of his punishment was 
to have his hair eloselj eropped and be thoroughly serubbed and 
made wholesome from head to foot. 

1 hardly know whieh of the two was most to be pitied ; the vic- 
tim of this barbarous exercise of tyrannous power, or the unhappy 
official to whose lot it fell to scrub the blackamoor white. 


CHAPTER LXIV. 

PIGEON AND HAWK. 

The sable government hearse that conveys the prisoners of the 
day to their destination was just setting down its dreary load at 
Newgate door. One by one the inmates of the vehicle were released, 
each from his separate compartment, and escorted through a lane 
of police up the worn steps leading into the lower hall. As usual at 
every street incident, a crowd of inquisitive gapers soon gathered 
outside the half-circle formed by the officers behind the prison-van, 
and commented more or less loudly upon the face and demeanor of 
each prisoner as he came forth. 

Mingling with the crowd of accidental spectators, however, were 
others more deeply interested in the various jail-birds’ fates. The 
mother of a boy “gone wrong,” the wife of a drunken mechanic who 
had nearly pounded her to death in his madness, the “fancy girl ” of 
the burglar or the pickpocket, the flash companion of some tawdry 
Cyprian, had been waiting, many for hours, to catch a last look, 
exchange a farewell greeting, or perhaps if exceptionally fortunate 
even a parting wring of the hand, and say a few words of cheer or 
comfort to tJie associate who had fallen under the ban of the law. 
And it was noteworthy that by far the majority of these expectant 
persons were women. 

Among the lookers-on were two watching in this kind of way, 
though with very different feelings, for the egress of Stark. With- 
out waiting to hear Billy’s fate, Oliver quitted the police-court im- 
mediately Stark was remanded, and hastened on to Newgate, to 


7 


418 


AlfBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


enjoy the pleasant spectacle of seeing his enemy safely lodged in jail. 
Like a gourmand gloating over the savory dish satiated appetite 
will no longer allow him to taste, yet unwilling to let it be removed 
from before his eyes,^ so Oliver felt loth to forego one atom of the 
Ihumiliation he gloried in having brought upon his former chief. 

Nat Tiptoft watched for his old master from a different motive. 
No feeling of revenge animated his extremely minute soul; it is doubt- 
ful indeed whether he was capable of a passion at once so large, so 
deep, so all-absorbing. Few men possess the firmness, the self-con- 
centration, to hate really and thoroughly, and to the full extent of 
the powers with which they are endowed ; to sacrifice everything, 
even up to life itself, for the opportunity of vengeance. Most go no 
further than petty malignity or paltry spite, indulged with the most 
anxious caution touching self. Wisely indeed has this been ordered 
thus, or amidst the clash and contest of opposing interests inevit- 
able in life’s battles, fair and smiling earth would be in truth what 
cynics declare it is — the foretaste of hell. 

Nat’s anxiety was purely and solely selfish. In his patron’s 
ruin, what waste become of him ? He hovered aboutthe gate, hop- 
ing to catch Stark’s eye and thrust himself upon his notice. There 
must iS* services, he argued, small items of fetch-and-carr3', were it 
only to run an errand or deliver a message, the prisoner would re- 
quire and for which he would liberally pay. If he cotdd only get 
speech of him, so as to urge his own forlorn condition. Stark might 
throw him a morsel from his abundance — no matter if contemptu- 
ously — upon which he might contrive to live. 

Nat you perceive, was none of your haughty dogs too proud to 
stoop to dirty pudding. The dirt could be brushed off ; the solid, 
stodgy aliment remained. 

He had his wish. Upon leaving the vehicle, Stark’s bloodshot 
eye, glancing round the faces, first lit on Oliver’s still bandaged head. 
A gleam of deadly hatred, that if looks could kill, would have smit- 
ten Oliver dead, shot from beneath his brows, while the young man 
turned away with a triumphant, taunting laugh. Passing on, the 
prisoner’s gaze encountered Nat’s piteous and imploring face. A 
sudden thought seemed instantaneously to dart into his brain. He 
beckoned the clerk, who rushed towards him, only to be pushed 
roughly back by the police, 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


419 


‘‘Wait! ” whispered Stark, hoarsely, as he was urged up the steps. 
“Within an hour I will send.’^ 

The order only caught the ear for which it was intended, and 
Nat fell back among the crowd. 

Before quitting the police-court. Stark had obtained permission 
to consult a solicitor, to whom he might entrust his defence. When 
placed in his cell, he availed himself of this circumstance to get a 
messenger despatched for Nat. A liberal fee to the warder obtained 
the further favor that his clerk might, in presence of an attendant, 
be introduced into the cell. 

Armed with the necessary instructions, Nat left the prison with 
a far lighter heart than beat within his bosom while watching for 
his chief. A prospect much exceeding anything his wildest dreams 
had pictured lay before him. His reception had been encouraging, 
even kind. For a trifling service he was to have a magnificent 
reward. 

“Old Blackface ain’t such a bad sort, after all,” hemuttered, as he 
sped rapidly along in the direction of Clement’s Inn. “Only to 
deliver a letter and fetch him a ring; and I may have all that ’s left. 
Wonder how much there’ll be? Hundreds — no doubt; praps 
thousands! By Jove! this is an unexpected slice o’ luck.” 

Hurrying along, and turning aside only to deliver the letter Stark 
entrusted to him upon his road, Nat speedily covered the ground be- 
tween Newgate and the Inn, and turned under the gateway. So 
deeply absorbed was he in speculation upon his prospective good 
fortune that he never noticed he was closely followed by a rough- 
looking fellow in a sailor’s dress, to whom his destination seemed an 
object of considerable interest. This man watched Nat into the door 
of Stark’s chambers, lounged about for a few minutes, then sauntered 
onwards whistling, with his hands in his pockets, and was presently 
swallowed up in his turn by the yawning mouth of No. 54. 

After a passage of arms with the housekeeperin the regions below 
touching the key, she averring she had strict orders not to let no one 
go up, from them “bothering perlice,” he declaring said orders could 
not be meant to prevent his fetching away his office-coat and sundry 
other items of personal property, Nat got possession of the article in 
dispute snd gleefully made his way upstairs. 

Passing through the offices into Stark’s private room, he pro- 


420 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


ceeded at once to the closet where, it will be remembered, he had 
already passed an unhappy quarter of an hour. 

Those times were over now, he thought, never, never to return. 
Rosy visions of a radiant future, enlivened by ample means and op- 
portunities for unlimited “part-practice,” hovered before his eyes as 
he hastily unlocked the closet-door, and began clearing away the 
packets of red-taped documents that strewed the floor. They were 
cast out into the room in a twinkling; then Nat made a pause, and 
began to consider. 

“This is the place,” he muttered, drawing a paper from his pocket, 
and running his eye down the lines. “ ‘ Right-hand corner, two planks 
from the back; about three inches from the side is a knotf Yes, 
right ; there it is. ‘ Press the centre of the knot, and the spring will 
yield f Will it? Let’s see. Yes, by George, it does. Oh, Gemini!” 

This classic outburst was evoked by the plank on which, accord- 
ing to his instructions, Nat was pressing with all his force, suddenly 
starting aside, and nearly precipitating the explorer head-foremost 
into a narrow caYity that became visible beneath. Quickly recover- 
ing, Nat plumped upon his knees, and began to draw to light the 
objects the recess contained. 

“First, the little box with the ring. Go you into my pocket, old 
boy. Next, what’s this? — Hulloa! Diamonds, as I’m a living 
sinner. One — two — three morocco cases. Hurrah! Join you the 
ring, my little sparklers. Now — any tin! Yes, yes; to be sure. 
Notes, in packets, all ready tied up. — Two, five, seven ; out with you, 
my beauties. Anymore? Ay, lots. Here goes — all out on the floor; 
time enough to pack ’em up afterwards. By George ? here ’s a 
game.” 

Plunging his arm further and further into the recess, as he pulled 
out packet after packet from Stark’s hidden store, Nat in his excite- 
ment was totally unconscious of a stealthy step creeping across the 
floor, until the figure in a coarse sailor’s dress was standing close at 
his back, with wondering yet greedy eyes surveying the treasures 
being cast out momentarily at its feet. 

“That’s about all, I fancy,” murmured Nat’s voice again, sound- 
ing hollow and muffled to the spy without. “Nothing left but 
papers, documents, no good to me, at any rate. Now to count the 
spoils, and be off with the booty. — Ya — ha! ” 

A hard strong hand griping his neck and pressing down his head 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


421 


to tlie boards where he grovelled literally in the dust, brought out 
this shriek of dismay and sent the life-blood rushing in upon his 
heart with a terrific shock. Kicking vigorously, and gradually 
wriggling round, Nat found himself in the struggle raised to his feet 
and was next moment hauled out into the light. 

Facing his assailant, the clerk at once recognized the Yankee 
sailor, Riggs. 

“Blarmed ef I didn^t think ^twas you, yer little varmint ! ” 
ejaculated the man. “Why, mate, we’re both sailing in the same 
craft, uny yer’ve jist had the luck ter find the old chunk store as I 
kim arter.” 

“Put those notes down, I tell you! ” screamed Nat, pouncing upon 
the sailor as he coolly crammed half a dozen of the precious packets 
into his ample pockets, and looked about for more. “They ’re mine 
— given me by Stark. You ’ ve no right here. Be off this instant.” 

“Kim to talk o’ rights, my cocky, we arn’t na3^theron us much of 
that lot,” returned the sailor equably, pushing Nat aside. “But 
mine’s as good as yourn, anyhow, ef not better. Kim, hand over. 
Share an’ share alike. There ’s plenty for both.” 

Roused to fury by this insolent aggression upon what he had 
already flattered himself was exclusively his own hunting-ground, 
Nat forgot prudence and his adversary’s superior strength, and grew 
positively brave. He flew at Riggs as an enraged bantam flies at a 
overgrown Cochin-China trespassing upon his peculiar midden. 

“Give them up, you rascally Yankee thief!” he shouted. “D’ye 
think I ’am going to be plundered by e;very blackguard who puts in 
his claim ? ” 

Dashing at the American, he succeeded in the surprise of the 
moment in pinning him against the wall. But he was no match for 
his athletic foe. Catching his puny assailant by the throat with one 
hand, Riggs drew a long clasp-knife with the other, opened it with 
his strong, sharp teeth, and the venturesome Nat would have had 
painful reason to repent his valor, had not unexpected succor been 
close at hand. 

Rapid steps were heard coming through the outer offices, and 
another moment Oliver Blande, followed by the solicitor Crosth- 
waite and one of his clerks, entered the room. At their appearance, 
both combatants loosed their hold. 

“As I suspected,” said Oliver to his companion, “the plunderers 


422 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


have been beforehand with ns. Come, you two jackals, cease growl- 
ing over the carcass, and hand out the spoils. Neither of you is 
entitled to anything here. No murmurs. Quick, give up what you 
have stolen, or shall I call up the officers below ? ” 

Sullenly and reluctantly, Riggs handed out the notes he had 
already pocketed, while Nat vehemently protested nothing was in 
his possession save what was his own. 

“That Yankee scoundrel,” he declared, “set upon me while I was 
taking what has been given me by Stark.” 

“Stark must establish his own claim first, my good fellow,” 
observed Mr. Crosthwaite, with a laugh. “We shall find owners 
for the property, never fear.” 

“ An’ arn ’t we ter git niver a share o’ the swag? ” growled Riggs, 
frowning. 

“Not a stiver,” returned Oliver, decisively. “Be off, fellow. Think 
yourself fortunate in escaping so easily.” 

Riggs drew back slowly to the door, murmuring some half-heard 
syllables, then turned, and shaking his fist malignantly at Oliver, 
broke out with a bitter curse: 

* I ’ll pay you for this, my flash spark, sum day. Yer ’ve not kim 
to th’ end o’ your tether yet. Afore the gallows gits its due ye ’ll hev 
cause ter think on Aby Riggs.” 

Oliver turned upon his heel with a gesture of contempt. 

“ ’T was lucky you had a sharp fellow on the watch,” he said to 
the solicitor. “More lucky still, almost, that I was with you when 
he gave the alarm.” 

“Poor Keane’s death has made the police lose their heads, I 
fancy,” returned Crosthwaite. “It will be long before they find his 
equal.” 

“Probably,” said Oliver, indifferently. “But to return to our- 
selves. You will take charge of all this property, Mr. Crosthwaite. 
There must be documents of importance too in the recess. Your 
clerk can make an inventory, and we shall have ample opportunity 
to go over them afterwards, together.” 

Reaching Newgate, Nat had little difficulty in again obtaining 
al3missionto Stark. To him he of course made most bitter lamenta- 
tion of the violence to which he had been subjected by Riggs and the 
subsequent high-handed measures adopted by Blande. A dark smile 


ALBANY STABK^S REVENGE. 


423 


played for a moment around the solicitor’s mouth as he listened to 
the little man’s complaints. 

“Have you the ring ? ” he demanded hastily, cutting short Nat’s 
Jeremiad. 

“Here it is; butain ’t I to haveany redress ? ’’piteously wailed Nat. 

Stark eagerly snatched at the jewel, held it up to the light, then, 
apparently satisfied, placed it upon his finger. 

“Yes,” he returned. “ Come back to-morrow morning, and I will 
make your amends. One service you can do me still — the last — and 
you shall not go without your reward.” 

With this promise Nat was forced to be content. He went away, 
still for appearance sake bitterly lamenting his loss, but at the same 
time hugging himself with the delicious consciousness that the three 
red morocco cases of diamonds were still safe in his possession. 


CHAPTER LXV. 

TOO LATE. 

Released from the strain upon his energies occasioned by the pur- 
suit and incarceration of Stark, Oliver Blande returned to his lodg- 
ing in Soho wearied and exhausted both in body and mind. He had 
not re-entered the place since setting forth upon his first visit to Mr. 
Crosthwaite. 

What a change came over his fortun'^s since last he glanced 
around those humble walls ! What a striking series of exciting and 
momentous events had been crowded into thecompass of afew short 
hours! He felt it difficult to realise that he, hitherto a penniless 
slave, dependent for the bread he ate and for immunit3^ from pros- 
ecution as a criminal upon the caprice or the forbearance of a man 
he equally feared and abhorred, was now — as by a turn of the hand 
— freed from anxiety and alarm, forever released from control, his 
own master, independent — nay, rich. 

Rich ! Yes, and to whom was he indebted for the fortune that, 
his birth established, he could claim as Juan Lee ? To his father. To 


424 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


tlie man whose hospitality heMiad betra3''ed, whose secrets h^had 
pried into, whose crimes he had uncovered and revealed. The iSan 
whom, above all others in the wo'rld, though notin him^eJf deserving 
of reverence or respect, he should have shielded, helped, assisted, 
tried to have brought to repentance and atonement for his many evil 
deeds, but whom he had, on the contrary, followed up and dogged 
with the perseverance of the sleuth-hound until he had hunted him 
into a sudden and a bloody grave. For Oliver was not casuist 
enough to attempt disguise from his own conscience that, but for 
him, Ralph Lee would still have been living unmolested at The 
Towers. 

True, he told himself that had he refused the mission. Stark would 
have found another instrument. But would that other have dis- 
covered as much as he had done? It was improbable. Again, 
Oliver argued that he had acted in utter ignorance of the tie of blood 
binding him to Ralph. Conscience refuted him promptly with the 
reply that no degree of ignorance can suffice to justify meanness and 
wrong. 

Whichever way he turned, in his vain and frantic efforts to escape 
from the harrowing consciousness of his guilt, he found himself sink- 
ing deeper and deeper into the slough of despair. Suppose he braved 
out his position with a brazen face, proved his identity with Walter 
Gray, boldly laid claim to his inheritance, and let the world say what 
it chose. At best, the thing would be a nine days’ wonder, soon be 
chased into oblivion by the ever-flowing tide of newer events, and 
after all, nobody save himself knew the exact history of the fatal 
night. Ah ! was it indeed so ? Might not the facts yet be revealed ? 
Might not his invitation to Edward Blythe be yet forthcoming ? 
Could not Josh testify to what he had overheard ? Worse than all, 
was not his bitterest enemy. Stark, in full possession from his own 
lips of all that had occurred? Would he be silent? Not if the 
faintest probability of disgracing his foe in the eyes of the world 
could be found. 

Oliver could do many things unpricked by the stings of remorse. 
He had implanted fatal tastes that hampered all their future career 
in youths just entering life in the flush and ardor of hopeful man- 
hood; he had betrayed trusting women who had placed faith in his 
glozing vows, and flung them off to disgrace and shame ; he had 
drained the cup of so-called Pleasure to the dregs, and with so much 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVENGB, 


425 


cool, calculating c^micism as scarcely to have found the draught bit- 
ter; but there was one thing A^et he dared not face. He shrank with 
a horror that thrilled through every nerve from encountering the 
audible whisper of the world : “ There goes the man who hunted his 
father and his uncle to their doom.’^ 

He knew, of course — as who does not? — that money gilds nearly 
every variety of human shame, but he did not imagine it would clothe 
him with sufficient armor to encounter this. He knew that the 
sneers and flouts of Society glance oif unfelt from, even if they are 
ever directed against, the man who wraps himself in the triple clack 
of indifference, opulence, and disdain, as bullets leave the hide of the 
rhinoceros untorn. But he was also sufficiently man of the world to 
be aware that there are some acts respectability, however hardened 
and selfish, never forgives; some crimes, intangible perhaps by law, 
it considers itself in duty bound, as loosening the ties by which the 
artificial framework is held together, to hold up to public disgrace. 
Of these unpardonable sins, that which he had ignorantly committed 
was one of the chief. 

In all the darkening prospect around, he saw only one quarter 
whence he might hope for a gleam of light. Stronger than ever, his 
heart turned now to Guenever, or, as he had learned from Crosth- 
waite, Georgina Mayne. 

“If there be truth on earth,’’ he cried, starting up, “ I shall find it 
there.' Thank God, that she at least is left to me! Women are ten- 
der and merciful, she more than most. The heart she has once given 
will not be lightly withdrawn. Georgina shall decide my fate.” 

Leaving town next morning with early dawn, -the afternoon 
found Oliver hastily traversing the well-known roads lying between 
Paston and The Towers. The long journey had afforded him ample 
leisure to marshal the arguments he would use while laying his case 
before her he loved, but, to say truth, he hardly felt ver3^ sanguine of 
a favorable result. Deep in his heart there lurked a conciousness of 
utter want of desert he knew must paralyze his rhetoric and hami^er 
his tongue. Devoid, by the wretched, selfish scepticism of his life, of 
that full and perfect trust a single-minded man feels in the woman 
with whom he has exchanged sacred vows, he could not realize the 
belief that she to whom he was about to plead would be readv to 
brave obloquy, for love of him. 

Oliver had thought more deeply within the last twent3^-four 


426 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


hours than perhaps ever before throughout all the years he had 
walked on the earth. He was but slightly humbled, even yet; still 
out of his crude reflections had sprung a rough, intuitive conviction, 
that it would be a stigma upon eternal justice if a man who had led 
the life that he had led should win the priceless blessing of a virtuous 
woman’s pure and holy love. 

Arriving within a short distance of the Grange, he paused beside 
a hedge bordering a narrow, winding lane to consider how he could 
gain an interview. Go boldly to the house he durst not. Alice 
would instantly recognize him as Walter Gray, and acquaint her sis- 
ter, if she had not indeed done so already, with enough of his actions 
in that character effectually to extinguish his last faint hope. 

So essentially shifty and hand-to-mouth — if I may use the ex- 
pression — was the nature of the man, that he put away from him, as 
unworthy of consideration, the certainty that his earlier misdeeds 
must inevitably sooner or later come to light. Tirne enough to meet 
that difficulty when it arose. Let him once win the renewal of 
Georgina’s promise, and his powers of persuasion, coupled with her 
own regard for her word, would carry him triumphanth" through. 

That a clever man, of otherwise acute intellect, could be blind 
enough to suppose the affection of an eminently frank and candid 
girl could survive so rude a shock as the discovery of his infam}', 
wotdd be inexplicable, dicJ^ve not see instances of equal self-delqsion 
daily at our doors. 

Fortune favored Oliver so far as speedily to end his doubts. A 
laboring man he questioned had seen the strange young lady at the 
Grange pass down the lane to Paston about an hour ago. Unless 
she took the short cut across the fields, she must return to the farm 
by the same road. To make sure, Oliver went on to a certain stile ; 
there waited with a beating heart. 

Yet not for long. Few minutes onl^’' had elapsed, before he saw 
the tall and stately figure he knew so well advancing along the road, 
and strode on to meet her. 

After the first few words had been exchanged, the two walked 
side by side along the path leading across the fields to the Grange. 

“You know, I take it,” Oliver began, “much that has passed in 
town. Stark was remanded yesterday for a week.” 

“We heard as much from Mr. Blythe,” replied Georgina, in a low 
voice. “ He returns home to-night.” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


427 


‘‘So soon! he exclaimed, thinking that in that case no time was 
to be lost. “ By-the-way, you have had your great discovery down 
here as well. Allow me to congratulate you most sincerely upon 
having found your sister.” 

Notwithstanding his utmost effort to appear unconcerned, there 
was a tremor in his tone that could hardly escape notice. For the 
first time since their meeting, Georgina raised her head, and looked 
him steadfastly in the face. 

“ Perdition ! She knows all 1 ” was the idea that instantly flashed 
through his mind. But he met her searching fook with his old, in- 
sinuating smile. 

“I am both glad and sorry you have come down to-day, Captain 
Blande,” the girl began. “ Glad — because it is better what I have to 
say should be said to you alone ; sorry — because I had hoped you 
would have spared us both the pain of meeting.” 

Oliver was utterly confounded by this straightforward manner 
of meeting the difficulty in view. He collected himself sufficiently to 
stammer forth an assurance that he was quite at a loss to under- 
stand — 

“Ask your own heart,” she interrupted gravely, “your own con- 
vScience. However hardened the one, however seared the other, by 
such a life as you have led — how guilty the Omniscient Judge above 
alone can tell — I trust neither are yet so callous as to be dead to 
every .sense of shame.” 

“One moment,” broke in Oliver, hastily, with a forced smile. 
“Excuse me, but you really seem to be laboring under the most ex- 
traordinary delusion.” 

“Would that I were!” she answered, fervently, though her voice 
quivered and her eyes filled with tears. “ Would that I were of that 
easy, ductile temperament ready to be persuaded against its better 
judgment by a few fair words. I should not feel so bitterly the pang 
of being undeceived.” 

Too much aftected to continue, she stopped, and placed her hand- 
kerchief to her eyes*. 

“ Come ! ” thought Oliver. “ There ’s hope yet. She loves me still. 
A little judicious penitence while she’s in the melting mood, and the 
day ’ll be won.” 

“Dearest Guenever — Georgina!” he said, throwing all the pathos 
at his command into the accents of his pleading voice. “Be just. 


428 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


At least hear me before you condemn. The vilest criminal on earth 
is entitled to a fair and impartial trial, may bring* forward evidence 
in his defence. Don’t treat me more harshl^^” 

She turned in evident surprise; perhaps — so slow is woman to 
credit baseness in the man she loves — in hope he would be able to 
make good his words. He saw his advantage, and poured forth his 
ready tale. 

‘‘I’ll not affect to misunderstand your meaning.. I do admit I 
have done many things I would willingly recall. But there’s a good 
deal to be said in excuse. When very young, a boyish indiscretion 
placed me in the power of Stark. Oh, Georgina, you, in your quiet, 
peaceful life, can have no idea what a monster that man is. Some 
notion of his daring may be gained from th^ forgery of Lee’s will, 
wdiich I ’ve been happily able to frustrate. There ’s something on the 
credit side of the ledger, you ’ll allow. Subjected so entirely to his 
control, what was I to do ? Whenever I refused to carry his stern 
and cruel schemes — and I did refuse, more often than you may fancy ; 
I did indeed ; so often as to bring down upon my head the direst 
threats of vengeance — what was his answ^er? ‘Make 3’our choice! 
he would tell me. ‘ Choose between prompt, blind obedience and a 
jail. Only remember; your decision is irrevocable.’ How could I 
help myself? Refusal would have brought no respite to those for 
whom I interceded, for he w^ould easily have found some less scrup- 
ulous instrument to take my place, and it w^ould have entailed my 
own immediate, certain ruin. Thus I was hurried on from bad to 
worse, carried along by the stream, never allowed time to reflect. 
Remember however that I did repent at last, and have done all that 
in me lay to check his horrible career.” 

Georgina listened eagerly to what he had to urge, and there was 
far more of it than you would care to read, but all in the same 
strain. His entire line of argument was directed to portraying him.- 
self as the innocent victim of circumstances, and to throwing the 
whole blame of his evil actions upon Stark. But her innate sense of 
right detected the current of hollow sophistry that ran beneath. 
She shook her head sadly. 

“Heaven knows I would be the last to condemn you harshhq 
Captain Blande,” she replied. “Conscious of my own many faults, 
how could I take upon myself the office of the judge? But alas! — 
facts confute you. If so completely in this man’s power as you say. 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


429 


how is it 3^011 are able, unpunished, to accuse him now ? I know but 
one rule by which the acts of all should be guided. Do right, what- 
ever betide.’^ 

That ’s easily explained,’’ he answered quickly. “ It ’s only within 
the last few days I ’ve learned I ’d after all been starting at a shadow. 
Stark had the power once, but has given it out of his hands by his 
own act. The moment I ascertained this, I acted. You know with 
what effect.” 

“All you say only bears out the justice of my rule. Had you re- 
fused earlier, you would have been saved many a wrong.” 

“To say truth, there was another reason,” faltered Oliver — “a 
reason this present conversation shows to have been just. 1 — I — 
feared the effect the knowledge of my previous life would have iq^oii 
you.” 

Georgina turned upon him with an indignant glowing face. 

“Falsehood to cowardice!” she exclaimed. “How could the ac- 
quaintance of the last few weeks govern the acts of b3'gone years ? 
Go, sir. Take back your promise; let us part. I despise m3^self for 
ever having listened to you.” 

One moment,” he craved, gently detaining her as she turned 
away. “Let me show you my penitence is indeed sincere. By a re- 
lation’s death I’ve just come into a considerable fortune, but there 
are others I think better entitled to it than I. If I relinquish my 
right in their favor, would not that one good action weigh with 
you a little as atonement for the past ? ” 

“No honorable man seeks reward for doinghis duty,” she retorted. 
“If your relation was unjust, it is for you to repair the wrong. 
Leave me, sir. Every word you speak shows the measureless dis- 
tance between us.” 

“Will you forgive me if I swear to devote all my future lifetomak- 
ing good the past?” he persisted. “Accident has placed in m3" 
power a large portion of Stark’s secret hoard. I know where to 
lay my hand upon the remainder. The wounds money has stricken, 
money can heal. If I repair, as far as possible, every wrong that 
Stark and I have committed, may I then hope? ” 

“Captain Blande,” replied Georgina, turning full upon him a very 
pale but very resolute face, “listen for the last time to what I say, 
before we part. If your repentence for the wicked life you have led 
be really heartfelt and sincere, your own conscience must know you 


430 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


are bound to make every restitution in your power. Tbe — the — 
affeetion — well, I will say boldly, tbe love — I once felt for you is 
dead, or rather, never had existence. I loved a man, I thought the 
soul of honor. What I find him, I need not say. I make no prom- 
ises ; hold out no hopes, further than this : If in the course of years, 
you come to me again, show that you have honestly trie to the 
- best of your ability to redeem the ^Dast, I will not refuse > ou the 
opportunity of trying to revive the attachment I once felt. If you 
can, the hand you profess to prize so highly shall be yours. If you 
cannot, I shall tell you so, frankly. That is all I say now — I doubt 
indeed whether I am doing rightly to concede so much. If you are 
capable of appreciating the sacrifice, you will understand me; if not, 
let us never meet again. Farewell ! " 

Georgina’s quiet dignity literally struck Oliver dumb. They had 
nearly reached the Grange as she spoke. She turned hastily in at 
the gate, passed up the little walk, and had vanished from his sight 
before he could recover from his stupefied surprise. 

Not was much time afforded him, for at that moment two men 
came rapidly up the road from behind, and seized him b^^ either arm. 
Looking from one to the other, he recognized Will Blythe and Josh. 
• “The very man of whom we were in search,” exclaimed Will. 
“Come into the house with us, if you please. Captain Blande. Im- 
portant matters must be settled before we part.” 


CHAPTER LXVI. 


FOUND ! 

Will Blythe and Josh led Oliver — in some sort their prisoner — into 
the Grange, and brought him straight into the family sitting-room. 

It was occupied at that moment only by Annis and Mrs. Lee. 
While Will went up to his mother and spoke to her a few moments 
earnestly in a low voice, Oliver p^id his compliments to his former 
hostess. Glancing round the room, it was a great relief to him to 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


431 


find that Alice Mayne, whom he particularly dreaded to meet, was 
not yet present. 

“This gentleman, dear mother,” said Will stepping forward, “is 
Captain Blande, whose name you have so often heard, but whom 
3 "ou have never 5''et seen, l^e will be able, I make no doubt, to tell 
us something upon the subject about which we are so anxious.” 

Oliver had by this time pretty nearly recovered his usual self- 
command. 

“Delighted to have the pleasure of making your acquaintance, 
Mrs. Blythe,” he said, in the insinuating tone he invariably used 
towards women. “Any information in my power to afford, I need 
hardly say, is most heartily at your service.” 

Annis raised herself by the elbows of her couch, and gazed earn- 
estly upon the young man’s face. Evening was drawing in, and 
there was not sufficient daylight to trace its lineaments distinctly, 
yet the flicker of the fire came and went upon the features. After a 
vain attempt to read their expression clearly, Annis sank back with 
a sigh. 

“ I thought — for a moment,” she said faintly, ‘‘but it was a foolish 
fancy. Will dear, please go on. 

“Mr. Blythe would certainly oblige me by putting any questions 
he may wish to ask at once,” said Oliver, looking at his watch. 
“My time is rather short, I must positively get back to town to- 
night.” 

A hope darted into his mind that he might manage, after all, to 
escape from the house without the recognition he feared. 

“It’s but little we want to know,” replied straightforward Will, 
bluntly, “but that little is of importance to us. Mr. Crosthwaite 
has told you, I think. Captain Blande, that we’re particularly 
desirous of learning the whereabouts of the person known as Walter 
Gray. You admitted the other day, I understand, that he was an 
intima te acquaintance of yours. You ’d greatly oblige us by stating 
where he is to be found.” 

“At present,’ returned Oliver, after a pause, “I believe he’s not in 
town. Bu't any communication j^ou wish to make to him can be 
forwarded.” 

“Through you, I suppose ? ” 

“ Through me.” 

“Thanky,” replied Will, drily, “That won’t quite answer our 


432 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


purpose. We want to see Walter Gray face to face— to know where 
he is, and all about him. I don’t wish to hurt your feelings, Cap- 
tain Blande, but I need hardly say that his being a friend of yours 
is no great recommendation in our eyes.” 

Oliver bit his lip. 

“Possibly, he answered, quietly. “I shall not attempt to combat 
\'Our prejudices as regards myself, but I decline to give up my friend’s 
address until I hear why 3^ou seek him.” 

“ If Crosthwaite’s to be believed, you know that as well as I do. 
Unfortunately, we can understand your motives in trying to keep 
us from him, but you won’t gain any advantage that way. We 
want to find him, and to be plain we will find him too--^with j^our 
help, if we can ; without it, if we can’t.” 

Oliver simply bowed. 

“We’re guided by no wish for profit to ourselves in the matter, as 
I dare say 3^011 suppose,” continued Will, growing hot. “All we 
want is to do good to the poor young fellow himself. After all, he ’s 
our own relation, our own flesh and blood — not much to boast Oi, I 
fear — but such as he is, we should be glad to acknowledge kinship, 
and make the best of him. Your friend has nothing to fear from us. 
Captain Blande.” . 

The evening was drawing in, as I said above, and they were 
simple folk at the Grange. Unaware of Will’s return and the pres- 
ence of the unbidden guest, Alice Mayne, closely followed by her 
sister, just theli came into the room with a lighted candle in either 
hand. 

“ Why, what plots are you two great conspirators hatching here 
alone together in the dark ? ” she cried gaily, holding up the candle- 
sticks at arms’ length, and gazing laughingly around. 

Oliver standing nearest the door, the glare of the lights fell full 
upon his startled features. Alice’s radiant look and his evil eye met 
and flashed instant recognition. The shock — the horror — the sur- 
prise of suddenly finding him she had such woeful cause to dread in 
the centre of the kind friends she dearly loved, utterly and at once 
overcame her. The revulsion of feeling was so intense that she fell 
back with a faint cry and sank to the ground in a swoon. 

With admirable presence of mind Georgina caught the fainting 
girl in her arms, and carried her with Will’s help to a couch, where 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


433 


she and Mrs. Lee immediately busied themselves about the uncon- 
scious form. 

Oliver, meanwhile, thinking the moment favorable for escape, 
made his way silently to the door, where he was stopped by sentinel 
Josh. 

“No, you don% Captain!’^ exclaimed the veteran, repulsing him 
sturdily. Muster Will’s commander here, an’ nobody passes my 
post without his orders. Keep back, I say.” 

Half fancying, in the sudden confusion, Oliver had in some unseen 
way struck Alice, or was at any rate more overtly guilty than was 
actually the case. Will hurried up to the door. 

“That’s right. Rich! ” he exclaimed. “Keep him — hold him fast, 
till I return. And you, sir (to Oliver), stir one step at your peril.” 

Loudly calling for Jake to bring in fresh lights, he rushed out into 
the hall. , 

Before he could return, the farm-house bell was rung violently 
from without. Will went to admit the applicant, and Nat Tiptoft 
with a horror-stricken face ran into his arms. Jake coming up with 
the lights. Will hastily told his new visitor to follow, and re-entered 
the sitting-room. 

‘ Oh, sir! Mr. Blythe!” cried Nat, brimming over with importance. 
“ I 've come down with such terrible news. Stark ’s dead ! ” 

“Dead ! ” was the general cry 

“As a red-herring,” replied Nat. “Saw him myself this morning 
in Newgate. He looked awful, far worse than when alive, and Lord 
knows he was grim enough then.” 

“ But how did it happen ? ” 

“Well— nobody knows exactly,” returned Nat, glibly, after a mo- 
ment’s pause. “It’s supposed— but mind, there’s no evidence; not 
the least — he must have put an end to himself with some deadly 
poison carried in an opal ring found upon the floor of his cell. But 
there ’s not the slighest evidence how it came there.” 

“P’raps, being a big man, he warn’t sufliciently sarched by the 
police,” suggested Josh. 

“Very likely — no doubt,” returned Nat quickly, catching at the 
idea. “ The last time I saw him alive. Air. Blythe, was yesterday 
evening, when he told me to call at the prison this morning. Well, 
sir, I went, and there he was — dead and cold. Upon his bed was 
found a letter, addressed to you, with a short note to me saying I 


434 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


was to deliver it. By the wish of the authorities, Mr. Crosthwaite 
opened the letter as your solicitor, read it through, looked very 
much troubled, sealed it up again, and advised it should be sent on 
to you at onee. Calling at your lodgings, I found you ’d left an hou r 
before. So I came down without losing a moment, and here it is.’^ 
Will took the letterto his mother’s side. Inspec ting the documerfct, 
they saw that under the address was written: Read this aloud, in 
presence of your family and Oliver Blande, if you can £nd him. It 
concerns you all. 

Alice was now restored to consciousness, and heard much of 
what had passed. To Will’s entreaties that she would retire, she 
replied with a shake of the head, murmuring; “No, no. Read the 
letter. Something tells me it will clear up much we ought to know. 
Only keep away the light, and do not let me look upon that hotrible 
man.” 

Thus Stark’s epistle ran : 

“Young Blythe, — When these lines meet your eye, the hand that traced 
and the brain that prompted them will both be at rest. Towards yourself, 
personally, and your mother — I think 1 have heard j^our mother is living — 1 
have no particular cause of dislike. You indeed did me a service once, for 
which I thank you; and thanks from me are rare. Upon the one occasion 
when we met, you, acting according to your rustic lights, enabled me to 
mortify the shallow fool Crosthwaite, and wound his self-love — the only 
point where such as he are vulnerable. Your mother, I make no doubt—” 
Here Will paused, and a light of sudden anger shot into his face. 
But the silence was broken by the soft tones of Annis’s gentle voice. 

“ Go on, my boy. Do you think so meanly of your mother as to 
fancy she could be hurt by a few idle words ? Let us hear every syl- 
lable. Remember the unhax3j)y nian who wrote is now before his 
Judge.” 

“ 1 make no doubt,” continued Will, “is a respectable saint, atoning 

for the sins she can no longer commit by a dotage of kinatical devotion — 
my agents have told me as much. For her I can feel nothing but contempt. 

“But, though neither you, the bumpkin, nor the shc-devotee who brought 
you into the world, have injured me actively by word or deed, both of you 
possess in my eyes one unpardonable fault. You are the nephew, she the 
sister of the loathsome scoundrel who dared to come between me and the 
wojnan I loved — an offence I have sworn to visit upon ©very member of his 
kith and kin, 

“And I bave done it! I at this moment living, sentient — a corpse to-night 
— a putrid horror in a week — leave planted in your virtuous breasts a sting 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


435 


of infamy, a sensation of disgrace, only the so-called good can feel, and 
under the consciousness of which you shall writhe till the latest moment of 
your lives. 

“Who shall say I have not drained to its dregs the brimming draught of 
ample lucious revenge? 

“Listen. In 1811 I, Francis Rivers, then a thriving London merchant, 
visited Cuba on business with a Spanish planter, Ramon Yesillas. There I 
saw and loved his daughter, Inez. She returned my love, or said she did — 
for it is only a fool who places faith in woman — and we were engaged. 
Next year, the father was to bring Inez to-London, where we should marry. 

“The Spaniard kept his word. In March. 1812, he brought his daughter 
to England, unluckily in the ship on which your scoundrel uncle ^ee sailed 
as mate. It happened that I was absent when my friend arrived, called to 
the East on business impossible to delay. 

“Lee — or Gray, for the villian was even at thg,t time versed in the dirty 
arts of duplicity — became intimate with Yesillas onboard, and the acquaint- 
ance was continued after landing. He contrived to ingratiate himself with 
Inez, made the planter drunk one night, eloped with the girl, and stole the 
father’s money. To my intense surprise — but I was green then — he ab- 
solutely married her. It could not have been for love, as he abandoned her 
a fortnight afterwards. The money, I understand, or the greater portion, 
he hancfed over to your respectable she devotee mother. He having been 
the thief, she became the receiver. I congratulate you upon your relations. 

“After abandoning Inez. I am told, Lee went to America. There he 
turned renegade and traitor, fought against his country, commanded a 
privateer, and became a pirate. For his exploits in this capacity, ask two 
men, Riggs and Walter Gray; they know more than I can tell you. 

“Ridding himself of his confederates, Jamaica formed the next scene of 
his exploits. Here, notwithstanding that his former wife was alive, and 
drudging for bread, for she would accept little or nothing from me, he mar- 
ried again. Whom he espoused, and the lady’s fate, you heard at the reading 
of his will. 

“I come now to the cream of my story. When Lee abandoned Inez, she 
was pregnant. In due time a child was born- -a boy christened Juan Lee, 
but brought up as Walter Gray. Then came niy^ part. To wring such heart 
as Lee lyiight possess, I caused him to be told the boy was dead, forging 
certificates and evidence he could not reasonably doubt. Ignorant that 
fate would ever place the father in my power I resolved to train up the son 
as worthy of his parent. I took him into my serviee, I encouraged his nat- 
ural vices, I led him on to rob his benefactress — her who had been a mother 
to him after Inez died. 

“I did more. Lee returned to England. The son was following fast upon 
the father’s traces, though in a different field. I had made him a scamp, a 


436 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


thief, a blackleg, and a cheat. Now I made him a man-hitnter and a spy. I 
set him on to discover evidence of his father’s early theft. He succeeded so 
well that in the quest he learned Lee’s pirate life. Then my pupil showed 
himself almost his master’s equal in craft. He threatened Lee with expos- 
ure unless bribed to silence — Ah! it is delicious to think how these two, try- 
ing to overreach each other, played into the wire-puller’s hands. The 
father suborned a ruffian to assassinate the son. Escaping the danger, the 
son egged on his uncle to attack his father, and both perished in the affna^'. 
Two of my enemies were thus disposed of by each other’s hands. Three re- 
main : young Lee, your mother, and you. Life being to some weak-minded 
fools a greater curse than death, I mean that you should live. None of you 
dare seek death; Lee because he is a coward, you others because you think 
it sin. 

I did intend to have carried my vengeance somewhat further, by making 
Juan Lee the instrument to rob himself and his family of his father’s ill- 
gotten gains. I sent him down to steal the will, and caused him to replace 
it with the added codicil. Had I succeeded here, I might perhaps have been 
content, but Fate proved adverse, and I failed. So long a succession of 
good luck was almost too much for mortal to expect. No matter. P'ortune 
has given me the ectasy of knowing I have fixed the pang of never-d^dng re- 
morse in the bosom of the son, a sentiment of ceaseless horror in the minds 
of all his kin. 

‘‘Stay; one thing more. It will doubtless add to the pleasureable recol- 
lections I leave behind to let you know that you yourself have been on 
terms of intimaev with the cheat and gambler, the midnight thief and par- 
ricide called Walter Gray. With my latest breath, I gloat in advance over 
the blessings you will bestow upon me when you hear that ornament of his 
race will be found indiscriminately under the names of Walter Gray, Juan 
Lee, or — Oliver Blande I ” 

A pale, stern figure, turned in a few short minutes from a laugh- 
ing girl to a resolute woman, glided between Will Blythe and his 
horror-stricken hearers as, with a faltering voice, he read the final 
words of this atrocious record. 

Pointing with outstretched finger to the spot where Juan Lee 
stood shaking like an aspen, turned to the wall, his guilty face hid- 
den in his quivering hands, Alice exclaimed: 

“It is too true, too true! Dear fHends, in whose sorrows I so 
full3^ shax*e, to whom m3^ heart clings at this awful moment with even 
stronger love— Will, my poor Will, soon to be my dear, my honored 
husband, forgive me if I strike the wound still deeper, but I dare not 
keep from 3^ou anything I ought to tell. There stands the murderer 
of my lamented mother; there stands Walter Gray!” 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVENGE. 


43 ? 


CHAPTER LXVII. 


DEVOTION. 

Nearly a year has passed since the events of the night I have just 
portrayed. Winter and spring have joined their predecessors in the 
tomb of the irrevocable past, and it is late in summer before we meet 
with any of the actors in this history again. 

Upon Oliver Blande — or rather Juan Lee — they had left a lasting 
and indelible mark. Scolfifyou like, raise the eyebrow, shrug the 
shoulder, at the notion of tardy penitence, felt all too late to be 
availing in terrifying a criminal back from further crime, felt when 
the wrong is committed and the suffering it entails upon the inno- 
cent is endured; but depend upon it the revulsion of feeling that 
turns a bad man’s eye in upon his b3^gone life, and makes him start 
with nameless horror at its hideous blackness, is not a thing so rarely 
to be met with as is thought. 

Granted that sudden changes are mostly to be viewed with sus- 
picion. Habit, even in ill-doing, possesses a tremendous power. Con- 
science grows seared and hardened and callous. A man who knows 
that he has lost the good opinion of his kind may easily grow des- 
perate, and plod along his ugly path in a spirit of hopeless, sullen 
revenge. Society has branded him; well, he will take it out of 
Society in return. Gare a qui me touche! Let Society look to itself. 

But when I find a man, be he even as bad and as corrupt, as sin- 
ful and as guilty as Juan Lee — a man who, unwittingly or skillfully 
made the tool of another, has run through all the long, sad catalogue 
of human crime and error save that he has not, actually and de facto ^ 
of malice prepense, stained his hand with the guilt of blood — when I 
find such a man really awakened to a sense of the wrongs he has 
done, striving might and main to repair those wrongs to the utmost 
of the ability still left to him, going out ojhis way to trace even to 
its remote consequences some portion of the evil he has wrought, 
and making that evil good — I don’t think, then, either you or I are 
justified in turning up the whites of our eyes, thanking God we are 
not even as this publican, and carefully barring every inch of the 
road to the reformation of our sinful brother. 


438 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGR 


Yet is not this very much what we do with regard to our con- 
victs — men who have stood at the bar, and received the judgment, 
and served out the term of their penalty; is this not very much what 
we do with our moral convicts — whom the law can’t touch — when 
they may be really and sincerely penitent, and anxious to make 
atonement for their evil deeds? In the one case we shut the poor 
wretch out from emploj^ment and often drive him back, through 
hunger, into crime. In the other we carefully exclude the black 
sheep from our homes, our marts, and our exchanges; we starve 
him morally, so to speak, and then we cry out upon his depravity if 
he relapses into sin. 

Pity that a little of that Christian charity, preached so indus- 
triously, heard so regularly, from the pulpit is not carried a trifle 
more into action in our daily lives. But the religion of many is like 
their Sunday clothes. Carefully put away during six days of the 
week, for fear it should be contaminated by a soil, and brandished 
in the face of the respectable world upon the seventh, when the 
wearer goes down into the temple to pray. 

Juan refused to accept one penny of his father’s fortune. Blood 
clave to it; the tears of the despoiled, the widow, and the fatherless 
stained every coin that made up its bulk. No good could come to 
him from its possession ; he made its sacrifice an earnest that he was 
indeed sincere. At his especial request, Mr. Crosthwaite instituted 
inquiries, through business connections in Boston and at other 
American ports, after persons still living, or their representatives, 
who had been sufferers by the Warhawk. Many were discovered, 
their claims carefully examined, and were found genuine, the losses 
they had sustained as far as possible repaired. 

But the restitution of the penitent man did not stop here. Stark’s 
death without known heirs placed the hoard rescued from the 
marauding hands of Riggs andTiptoft (except the diamonds, which, 
being a recent purchase of their late owner, nobody knew about, and 
Nat therefore retained) at the disposal of the Crown. A petition to 
Government, drawn up by Juan and Crosthwaite jointl^q setting 
forth the facts of the case, and praying that the amount thus 
recovered, with the remainder of Stark’s not inconsiderable prop- 
erty, might be devoted to recompensing those whom the dead mi n 
had ruined and defrauded while in life, encountered afavorable recep- 
tion. Although the claim was based upon a pure matter of feeling, 


439 


Albany stark^s revenge. 

was altogether out of the sphere of red tape and as such was sneered 
at with vast contempt by the fashionable yoting gentleman who 
condescended — for so much quarterly — to superintend the affairs of 
the nhtion, the astute Minister of the day thought it unadvisable to 
expose an already tottering administration to the comments of a 
“ ribald press ” if he refused. Perhaps, if one were more behind the 
scenes, equally sagacious reasons could be found for other acts ap- 
parently the offspring of gushing official philanthropy. 

Such good therefore as in him lay, Juan Lee did to balance the 
long account of previous ill. To imagine that he fancied in so doing 
he had made full and perfect atonement — even to man — would be 
absurd. He himself was far too clear-headed and cool to lay claim 
to anything of the kind. But he had certainly retraced his steps 
upon the downward path, and for no incowsiderable distance. He 
had done what lay in his power towards making amends, and to 
have achieved so much was in itself a victory. 

The news of Juan’s proceedings, regularly reported by' his faith- 
ful coadjutor, Mr. Crdsthwaite, was received with varied feelings by 
the circle at the Grange. 

Annis clasped her hands gently and sent up a prayer of thankful- 
ness that the sinner had at last been brought to see the error of his 
ways. Will pished and grumbled out it was a pity he did n’t see 
’em before he ’d lent his hand to all the mischief that had been done ; 
but in his secret heart he felt rejoiced that a man in whose veins ran 
Lee blood had turned out better than was feared. The most peculiar 
effect produced by the intelligence of Juan’s reformation was upon 
Georgina Mayiie. 

The excitement and emotion of the night when Oliver’s identity 
with Juan Lee was finally revealed struck Georgina very hard. The 
morning after, she complained of headache, shivering, pains in all 
her limbs, and was unable to rise. Growing rapidly worse. Dr. Polt 
^was hastily sent for. That eminent practitioner looked remarkably 
grave, shook his head, directed the patient to be kept perfectly quiet, 
and promised to return next day. When he did, two ominous words 
only escaped his lips : “ Brain-fever ! ” 

For nearly two months Georgina wrestled with death, and the 
dark shadow of the destroyer’s wings hovered very closely above 
her. Youth, a strong constitution, and Dr. Bolt’s skill, aided by the 
careful nursing of her sister and Mrs. Lee, ultimately brought her 


440 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE. 


throtigh. But she rose from her sick-loed in a very different frame of 
mind to that in which she had lain down. What this was, you will 
learn best from a short conversation with Annisthat occurred when 
she was convalescent. 

Since the beginning of her illness, none of the family had ventured 
to speak of Juan in Georgina’s hearing. His name was tabooed. 
With the cautious reticence to which loving souls are so apt, the\^ 
feared to awaken in her mind any remembrance that he lived. 

Judge therefore of Annis’s dismay when Georgina herself was the 
first to introduce the forbidden name. She plainlv asked her hostess 
when they had last heard anything of Juan Lee. 

Very recently, my dear‘” was the hesitating reply. “Yesterday, 
in fact. Will had a letter from Mr. Crosthwaite. But I would n’t 
advise your talking about it. You are still far from strong.” 

“Dear friend,” answered Georgina earnestly, raising her emaciated 
figure with difficulty upon the pillows.* “Be frank and candid — be 
yourself. Tell me all, everything. I ’m stronger than you think, 
only I must know.” 

Then Annis spoke. She told of Juan’s determination to redeem 
his misspent life, and of the steps he had taken, of the relinquish- 
ment of his father’s fortune, and his endeavors to retrieve the wrong 
done by Stark. 

“ But that ’s not all, my dear,” she continued, warming with her 
subject. “The poor young man really seems in earnest about his 
reformation, and to feel something more still is wanted to make him 
a better man. He ’s going away to Australia, Mr. Crosthwaite 
tells us, and means to work hard and live hard, to give him a right, 
as he says, once more to hold up his head among honest men.” 

Georgina had lain quite still and silent, listening, with one hand 
covering her eyes; but Annis noticed that tears were trickling slowly 
down beneath the wasted fingers. Presently the girl spoke, with a 
gentle tremor in her voice. 

“And do you think he will really keep his word ? ” 

“Ah, who can tell! ” responded Annis, with a sigh. “He thinks so 
now perhaps, but when temptation comes upon him again, he may 
fall. ‘The heart of man is deceitful above all things, and desperately 
wicked.’ But oh, I pray he may be steadfast.” 

“Do you think,” Georgina went on, very gently and slowly, “he 
would be more likely to succeed if he had some one to encourage him? 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


44i 


Some one whom he knows and to whom he is — attached, to cheer 
him on, and keep him from faltering ? Some one to whom he might 
turn in trial and' sorrow, to whom he could confide his troubles, who 
would comfort him in distress, and help his struggles on his difficult 
])ath ? ” 

“Such a friend would be his salvation ! ’’ exclaimed Annis, fervently. 
“I do not doubt his good intentions now; I fully believe he is 
sincerely repentantfor what he has done; but I do dread his fainting 
by the wa^^, 1 fear he muy grow weary of well-doing. No man ever 
needed a sincere friend more than he will, poor fellow, and where 
can such a one be found ? The only person who might do is Will, 
and his duties keep him here. Will cannot go.” 

“No, but 1 might! ” whispered Georgina, softly. 

Annis turned and looked at her with a glowing face. 

“You could, my dear! ” she cried. “You could iDrevail upon your- 
self to forgive the past, and, knowing all, yet help this erring brother 
to struggle to the light? Ah, what a noble heart! But no, dear 
child, you must not make that sacrifice.” 

“Kind friend,” returned Georgina, “listen to me. Since I’ve been 
lying here, I ’ve had full time to think. I ’ve prayed, for hours some- 
times, to be shown which way my duty lies, and I trust my prayers 
have been heard. Where God can pardon, it does n’t become weak 
mortals to be hard. Everything seems to show Juan is really a 
changed man, and only wants a helping hand to make his reformation 
sure. Well, I will give it. Here, I can soon be spared. In a short 
time you ’ll have in Alice the daughter in name you long have had in 
fact. My foster-mother will not miss me much. If I give help 
where help is really wanted, do you not see I shall be acting more 
rightly than by withholding it? And — and — to tell you a secret,” 
she added, turning away her head as a vivid flush spread over her 
cheek, “ in spite of all his faults, I — I — love him still! ” 

So it was arranged. Juan was to leave for Australia, where 
Georgina would join him in a year. When her health was more 
firmly established. Will escorted her to London, where their final 
interview took place. I pass over the prodigal’s gratitude and 
thanks, his promises of perseverance, his joyful anticipation of a 
happier future than he had dared to hope. Words under such circum- 
stances are empty air until confirmed by acts. Juan had the entire 
edifice of his life to re-build, brick by brick. His friends saw him on 


442 


ALBANY SfAkK^S REVENGB, 


board the Adrian Hope^ bound for Melbourne, and did not leave 
until the ship was dropping down the river. 

Within three months from that time Alice and Will were married* 
It was a very quiet wedding, with few of the concomitants usually 
attending such an event. Old Josh gave the bride away, a couple of 
neighboring farmers’ daughters were the bridesmaids, and a plenti- 
ful dinner to all. Will’s men and their families formed the whole of 
the festivities. Under the circumstances, it was thought preferai^e 
to let the day pass over with as little excitement as might be. 

Night came, and the Grange had long been wrapped in silence and 
repose, when on a sudden a piercing shriek rang through the calm. 
Another came, then another, and fully roused the startled house. 
Bursting out into the passage, the inmates ran to the spot whence 
the cries proceeded — Georgina’s room. 

Rushing in, Alice and Mrs. Lee found tbe tenant of the chamber 
sitting up in bed, her eyes staring, her face damp with the dew of 
fear, her arms extended as if in wild entreaty. 

“ What is it ? For Heaven’s sake say what has frightened you ? ” 
they cried. 

“There, there! Don’t you see?” she shrieked in terrible excite- 
ment. ‘ ‘ Don ’t you hear ? They rush upon him — threaten — tear him 
to the deck. They’ll kill him I Juan, Juan, my love, my husband! 
Not without me I Stay, I come ! ” 

Throwing herself from the bed, she sank upon her knees, upraised 
her hands, and prayed : 

“ Mercy, mercy I Oh Father Eternal, let him live to repent! Cut 
him not olf in the midst of his sins!” 

Then sank back senseless with a low, despairing cry. 


cKapter lxviii. 


JONAH. 

A gallant ship lay on the Southern sea, becalmed. 

The idle sails flapped lazily against the sweltering masts ; relaxed 
with heat, the cordage, otherwise trim and taut, hung limp and in 


ALBANY STARK^S RBVENGB. 


443 


disorderly festoons. Not a breath of wind was in the air, not a 
el Olid in the sky, not a ripple on the tideless wave. Looking over 
the side, yon might see as in a mirror the image of the spell-bound 
ship. MavSts, sails, spars, rigging, your own eidolon, gazing up at 
you from the green depths — all were there, depicted with unvarying 
accuracy. Mingled with these were strange and singular shapes' of 
different kinds of fish, darting to and fro, their vari-colored scales 
glistening as they shot across from gloom into light, and rapidly 
disappeared. At times a huge, dark fin would rise above the surface, 
betraying to the experienced eye the presence of the dominant tyrant 
of the sea. 

For full ten days the Adrian Hope, bound from London to Mel- 
bourne with cloth and manufactured goods, and having on board a 
select number of first-class passengers, had been detained upon this 
spot by lack of wind. Hitherto she had made an excellent passage, 
favored by fair weather, and her captain’s spirits had risen high at 
the prospect of a good market and large profits to liis owners, his 
consignees, and himself. The unforeseen delay proportionably 
dashed his hopes. 

The captain’s uneasiness was much increased by the mysterious 
behavior of his crew. As the days wore on without sign of wind, 
murmurs began to be heard among the men. Gloomy faces and 
frowning brows were turned upon the petty officers; cases of in- 
solenceand insubordination occurred daily ; fights were frequent; not 
confined to fisticuffs, but in which knives were drawn, and threats 
were uttered, coupled with hints that a day of reckoning was at 
hand. The chief mate reported to his superior that a mutinous feel- 
ing was growing up among the crew, and both, like prudent men, 
quietly made preparations to meet an outbreak. 

The ringleader of the discontent was a personage of whom we 
have latterly lost sight. Riggs, the Yankee sailor, had shipped as 
able seaman on board the Adrian Hope, with some object known as 
yet only to himself, and was busily engaged in fomenting discord. 
At his instigation, meetings were held nightly upon the forecastle, 
and harangues delivered of a nature that clearly was not meant to 
transpire, for they were discontinued whenever an officer drew near. 
The captain’s efforts to fathom the causes of complaint were fruit- 
less. The men were each stanch, and the secret was well kept. 

The only persons in the ship unaware of the coming storm were 


444 


ALBANY &fABK^S REVEN 6 S, 


the passengers, and from them the captain sedulously had his alarm. 
Chatting in the state-room or at meals, reclining in their berths, or 
lounging about under the awning stretched over the after-deck, they 
formed a pleasant, sociable little company among themselves, and 
looked upon the calm simply as an episode in an otherwise charm- 
ing voyage. 

One of the most generally liked in the circle was Juan Lee. Quiet 
and reserved in behavior, the slight dash of melancholy in his 
manner rendered him an object of interest to some, which the utter 
silence he observed as to his past life and his purpose in seeking 
Australia rather increased than lessened. His polite and gentle- 
manh" bearing made him a favorite with the ladies, while the chil- 
dren and he were indefatigable playmates. 

At noon on the twent3^-second of August, being as nearly as 
possible the exact hour of Georgina Mayne’s delirious vision at Pas- 
ton Grange, the captain and first mate of the Adrian Hope came aft 
to take the usual mid-day observation. Several of the passengers 
crowded round to hear the result, Juan being among the number. It 
was then the eleventh day of the calm. Absorbed in their task, the 
officers of the ship had not noticed that the men were gathering in 
sullen groups, gradually working their way towards the poop. 

Suddenlv came a shrill whistle, followed b\^ the cry from Riggs: 
“ Lads, to 3^our posts ! ” and an instantaneous rush took place. 

A strong bod^^ of the crew surged aft, seized the captain while 
drawing a pistol, and disarmed him before he had time to fire. The 
mate, who show^ed fight, was knocked dowm and bound. Rushing 
to the spot where Juan stood, Riggs sprang upon the ^^oiing man, 
separated him from the other passengers upon the poop, who were 
hurried forward, and handed him over to the custody of three of the 
men. 

Wffile this was going on aft, others of the mutineers had forced 
the terrified ladies on deck down the companion, whither they soon 
sent the remaining passengers, and placed a strong guard over the 
hatch wa3^ The fellows were civil though firm, teilingthe frightened 
women no harm was intended to them. 

The whole passed so rapidly that the ship and Juan were in the 
power of the crew almost sooner than the facts can be written. 

“Mutinous dogs! ” cried the captain, tearing himself iree from his 


ALBANY STARK’S REVENGE. 


445 


detainers’ hold. What d ’ye mean by this outrage ? What ’s 3’our 
cause of complaint ? ” 

The men fell back as he advanced, and left him face to face with 
their spokesman, Abiah Riggs. 

“Cap’n Block,*’ said the Yankee coolly turning his quid, “ wc 
hain ’t no fault to find with you, or the officers, or the ship. But 
there ’s summut we means ter dew as you would n’t give yer free 
consent to ef you was axed, so we ’re a gwine ter take French leave 
an’ dew it without. Eh, boys . ” 

“Ay, ay ! ” was the unanimous response. 

“Yer see, Cap’n, continued the orator, “the fax lies in a corn-cob. 
The Adrian Hope may be as good a ship as ever broke bulk, and^'ou 
as ’cute a skipper as ever sailea but somebody ’s to blame for this 
’ere calm. Wall, we’ve been a figurin’ it out, an we’ve kim to the 
conclusion who that somebody’ is. Hav n’t we my lads ? ’’ 

“ Ay, ay, that’s so ’’ re-echoed his follov^ers. 

“My men,’’ cried the Captain appealing to the general bodv of 
the crew, “don’t be led b^' this plausible scoundrel to put \^our lives 
in peril. Return to your duty, and edi shall be forgiven. Help me 
to seize the mutineer ! ’’ 

He pressed forwards towards Riggis, but others of the crew 
threw themselves before their leader, and pushed the captain 
back. 

“’Tain’t no use kickin’ ag’inthe pricks, Cap’n,’’ returned the sailor 
with a triumphant laugh. “The men know their friends and their 
inimies. Look’ee here. You ’re a pious man, Cap’n Block, an’ a 
riglar reader o’ yer Bible. You’ll mind the place that tells about a 
sartin Jonah; how as the craft he was aboard on kim into bad 
weather, an’ could n’t make her port afore they chucked him into 
the sea. Well, this ’ere calm’s sent us for jist sitch a reason. We ’ve 
got our Jonah here” — pointing to Juan Lee — “an’ overboard he 
goes without marcy. What say, lads ? ” 

“Ay, ay! Overboard with the Jonah!” yelled the excited crew. 

“Stop, stop, for God’s sake don’t do murder! ” cried the captain, 
earnestly. “Men, if you are men, show a little common sense. 
Mr. Lee has no more to do with the calm than you or I, or any one 
on board. It ’s a pure visitation of Providence, hardly likely to last 
another da^'. Those of you who have made the passage before must 
know a long lull’s nothiUg unusual, at this season, in these latitudes. 


446 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


Don’t do anything rash. Remember, the first man who lays a finger 
upon a passenger is a murderer in the eyes of the law, and will die 
a murderer’s death. Come, hear reason. Return to your duty and 
I’ll ot^erlook this breach of discipline.” 

”Werry good p'alaver, Cap’n Block,” returned Riggs, steadily, 
“but ’t won’t fit nohow. Our minds is made up. Jonah goes over 
the side, as sure as you ’re a livin’ man. Take you care you don’t go 
with him. Ten minnits time to say his prayers, an’ not a second 
more. Hev I spoke right, lads ? ” 

A roar of approbation was the sole reply. 

“One of yer mark the time, an’ two run out a plank! ” was Riggs’ 
next stern order “Lee, yer minnits is numbered.” 

The horrified Captain implored and appealed in vain. Riggs had 
gained too complete an ascendancy over the superstitious part of 
the crew — unfortunately for Juan by far the larger number — to allow 
of the sensible and manly arguments by which the officer tried to 
support his remonstrances gaining any hearing. Resort to force 
was out of the question. It really seemed as if the malignity of the 
Yankee was to be crowned with success. 

Juan listened to all that passed with the natural tremor even a 
brave man cannot but feel at the sight of certain death Coming 
upon him at the time it did, the blow was doubly hard. Never had 
he felt the value of life so fully as since it had opened out to him the 
prospect of Georgina’s love. To have raised the cup so nearh^tohis 
lips, and then have it dashed froAi his grasp by the revenge of a sor- 
did ruffian whose life he had already spared, was torture so exquis- 
ite that he may be forgiven if it wrung from him a groan. 

While Captain Block was still appealing to the humanity and 
justice of his men, Riggs made his way to Juan, and tapped him on 
the shoulder. 

“ Told yer we’d kim to a reck’nin. Cap,” sneered the wretch as his 
eye rested on Juan’s agitated face. “Yer scorned me then, yer 
know. ’T would ha’ been better ter let me share the swag, I guess.” 

“Ruffian, begone! ” cried Juan, turning from him with disdain. 
“Let me pass my last few earthly minutes in peace.” 

“Tell ’ee what, shaver,” whispered Riggs at his elbow. Ye’re a 
pesky proud-stomached ’coon, but I’ll giv yer a chance for life still 
ef ye like the tarms.” 

Juan flashed upon him an eager face. “Speak ! ” 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE, 


447 


‘‘Write me out a bill for five thousand — pounds, mind — an^I^ll turn 
the current. I knows ye Ve heaps o’ dollars. Let’s see which a 
gentleman valleys most — money or life.” 

“You are mistaken,” replied Juan, calmly, though he suppressed a 
bitter sigh. “ 1 am as poor as yourself— perhaps poorer. Even the 
cost of my passage is defra 3 "ed by my cousin Blythe.” 

“Wall, but he ’ll honor yer draft. Ef yer life’s worth anythin’, 
surely he’ll give that much for a distinguished member o’ the family. 
Will yer sign the bill ? ” 

It was a sore temptation, but it was the last. For a moment 
Juan wavered. Though sure that Will — or certainly Georgina — 
would readily have given the sum demanded, he felt at once he had 
no claim upon either for such a sacrifice. He turned from the Yankee 
with a resolute face. 

“Begone, villain ! ” he exclaimed. “ Trouble me no more. Let me 
make my peace with Heaven.” 

“Yer won’t sign then?” demanded Riggs. “Mind, ’tis the last 
chance. Ay or no ? ” 

“No!” thundered Juan. “ Not for a hundred lives ! ” 

“Then dum me ef yer shan’t feed sharks in five minnits,” snarled 
Riggs, savagely, as he turned disappointed away. 

The parley had however given Juan a furtherhopeof life. Moved 
by the entreaties of honest Captain Block not absolutely to cut off 
every chance of escape, the mutineers consented that their victim 
should be turned adrift in one of the ship’s boats. Riggs was furious 
when he learned the concession, but the majority of the men, secretly 
glad of a compromise, remained firm. 

“’Twas all I could do for you, my dear sir,” whispered the kind- 
hearted captain as the boat was being prepared. ‘ ‘ Though not much 
of a chance, still ’tis one of a sort, so not to be despised. You may 
be picked up by a passing ship, or if you steer this course” — giving 
him a hastily-scrawled, rough chart — “you’ll make St. Peter’s in a 
couple of days. It’s uninhabited, but I’ve been told there are wild 
goats. Birds you ’ll find in plenty ; fish abound. They shall let you 
have a gun a‘nd tackle. When we make port, I ’ll send to bring you 
off. More I cannot do. Farewell, and God bless you! ” 

Juan meanwhile had written a few hurried lines to Georgina, the 
care of which Captain Block willingly assumed. In these the doomed 
man took a solemn leave of her he loved, praying a blessing on her 


ALBANY STARICS REVENGE. 


M8 

future life in case they never met again. He thanked her for the light 
her generous promise had shed across his path, assuring her that if— 
as he humbly hoped — his errors were forgiven, he owed salvation to 
the hope she had inspired. Lastly, he begged her not to grieve too 
deeply for his unhappy fate, nor let it cast a shadow over her mind. 

“Think of me,” he concluded, “if you must think of me at all, as 
of a soldier fallen in battle while trying to do his duty, and dwell in 
spirit on the time when we shall meet again above.” 

Silence reigned through the ship as Juan went down the side, 
took his place in the boat, and slowly dropped astern. 

At that moment a ripple brushed the waters, and a puff of wind 
bellied the flagging sails. A cheer burst from the crew as they felt 
the coolness of the freshening breeze. 

“To your duty, men !” cried the stem voice of Captain Block. 
“Aloft, and trim the sails! Had you hearkened to me, you ’d have 
been saved a crime some will have to answer for. Now, you must 
take the consequences I ” 

“Ay, so must Jonah,” muttered Abiah Riggs. 

The Adrian Hope sailed on upon her way. 

Juan Lee stood up in his frail craft, and steadily watched the 
dwindling ship until she sank below the the horizon. Then night 
fell, and the deserted man was left in the midst of the desolate ocean 
— abandoned, helpless, and alone. 


EPILOGUE. 

Summer at the Grange. Under trees, whose lengthening shadows 
showed the sultry day was drawing to its close, there sat a family 
group. Annis and Mrs. Lee, Georgina with a chattering boy of four 
standing at her side, Alice holding a chubby infant upon her lap. A 
tea equipage, flanked by a mighty round of beef and a colossal ham, 
was upon the table. The meal only awaited father’s arrival from 
the field. 

A wain, laden with golden store — the last of six — was slowly 
creaking home. Across the loose-shorn meadows rose athwart the 


ALBANY STARK'S REVENGE, 


449 


sunset the distant shout of laborers, cheering the getting in the hay. 

Up strode Will Blythe, threw himself upon a chair, and wiped 
his reeking face. 

“ Thank goodness, that ’s well over he exclaimed. ^*Let rain 
come now when it will ! Ally, lass, I ’m dead beat ; give me a cup o’ 
t^a, my girl, to begin with. Well, any news ? ” 

“Letter from Missa Crostwait, Massa Blythe,” interposed Jake, 
thrusting his sable visage over Will’s shoulder. “ Brought by special 
messumger dis berry moment. Said him run all de way from de 
stashun. Spex dere’s want o’ correboblative evidence about de 
facks.” 

The march of improvement had overtaken sleepy Paston at last, 
and the once comatose village now boasted a railway station. A 
paper-mill had been established hard by, and there was talk of a 
rival to the Wellington’s Head. 

“Take the man into the kitchen, Jake, and give him some refresh- 
ment,” said Will breaking the seal. 

His eye ran rapidly down the page; then he looked round the 
anxious circle with a grave and sorrowful face. His gaze rested on 
Georgina, bending eagerly forward. 

“Read it out, dear Will,” she said, catching breath. “The worst 
is better than longer suspense.” 

“ ‘I have at last succeeded in seeing the Captain of the Danish brig,’ said 
the letter, ‘whom you remember I just missed last year at Copenhagen. I 
grieve to say that his report confirms all we have previously ascertained, 
and, in my opinion, leaves no doubt of our poor friend’s fate. enclose an 
extract from the Dane’s log, and beg you and all your family to accept my 
sincere sympathy:’ 

‘Extract from the log of the brig Gode Nyheder, bound from Copenhagen 
to Sydney. August 24, 1838. — Long. 85 E. lat. 52 S. Sighted a small 
boat floating bottom upwards, with the words Adrian Hope painted on 
her stern. Close by, found a man’s glazed straw hat with the name ‘Juan 
Lee’ upon the lining. Sharks were about. No sign of any person near. 

‘Nils Svenson, Commander.’” 

Perfect quiet reigned in the little circle while Will read these 
ominous words. When he had finished, Georgina turned to Alice 
with a look of holy calin, The settipg sun broke from behind q 


29 


450 


ALBANY STARK^S REVENGE. 


cloud at tlie moment, its dying glory lighting up as with a halo her 
brave and patient face. 

“It might have been worse,” she said. “Better, far better even 
such a death than shame. He might not have been strong enough 
to keep his resolution, might have been tempted, might have fallen. 
Now, he can err no more. It is wisely ordered. I am content.” 

She bowed her face upon the curly head of the little fellow at her 
side. The child clambered upon her lap, and flung his loving arms 
around her neck. 

So, with the innocent lips of infancy comforting her wounded 
heart in the bitterest hour of its anguish, Georgina Mayne met and 
fought down a faithful woman’s sorest sorrow. 


THE END. 






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VHI. The Knights of the Green Cloth, 
b\^ Antonio Sealvini. 

IX. Senator Lars Erikson, by FrankRm 
W. Lee. 

FOR SALE BY ALL NEWSDEALERS. 


PRICE 50 CENTS. 

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r 


• • • REKO • • • 


THE WOMAN OF ICE 

(la femme de glace.) 

ADOLPHE BELOT. 


Translated from the 45th French Edition, 


NOTPIOKS. 

*“The Woman of Ice’ is credited with being the most suggestive book 
In the French langtiage. Mr. Merriam’s translation is excellent and 
shows a thorough knowledge of both languages.” — St. Paul Daily News. 

“It is a piquant Frenchy French story with just enough of naughti- 
ness in it to make it saleable, and enough literary merit to atone for the 
Q au gh t i n e ss . ” — S till water Demo era t . 

‘‘There is not a falter from the first page to the last, and chapter 
follows chapter with a thoroughbred speed, which carries the reader to 
the finish without fatigue and without tarrying a bit for fault finding or 
difficulties of comprehensions.” — St. Paul Daily Globe. 

‘“The Woman of Ice’ is a stirring tale of passionate Parisian life, 
strongly written, and evidently designed to teach the moral truth that 
'the wages of sin is death.’ ” — Minneapolis Spectator. 

‘“The Woman of Ick,’ translated from the French of Adolphe Belot, 
Is a powerfully written love story and one which maintains the reader’s 
wrapt attention from the opening chapter to the end of the book.” 

— Omaha Bee. 

“‘The Woman of Ice* is one of Adolphe Belot’s characteristic 
studies of Parisian life and realistic to a dangerous degree.” 

— Troy Times. 

“‘The Woman of Ice’ is one of those descriptions of Parisian life, 
illustrated by well ch®sen characters, so much affected by nearly all 
French writers of fiction. It is not the better life of Paris — the life that 
will help men and women to grow better. It is the gay and unlicensed 
convivialities and indulgences around which the clever writer can throw 
an inviting halo that is dangerous to the untutored minds of most 
American readers. The one and only justification that can be offered for 
the reading of many of these books is the exquisite style in which they 
are written. This one seems to have had a good translator, who has 
preserved much of the alluring charm of words common to the French 
school of novelists.” — Kansas City Times. 

“ ‘The Woman of Ice’ is a wide awake novel from the French.” 

— Chicago Post. 

“ Those who like French novels will find this an amusing story and 
well told.” — Detroit News. 

“Its language is a work of art, beautiful and striking.” 

— Pittsburg Press, 

“The book will find favor in the eyes of the habitual story reader, be- 
cause of the novelty of the situations, which are unusual, even in French 
romance.” — Milwaukee Sentinel. 


PRICE 50 CENTS. 

The Price - McGill Company, 

ST. PAUL, MIKN. 


1 


READ ^ — — 

HIS TWO LOVES 

— ^ by — - 

ALBERT DELPIT. 


0 


Translated from the 30th French Edition by 


R. H. MERRIAM. 


PRESS NOTICES. 

“The story is a very Frer.chy account of life in Paris and the prov- 
inces, in a realistic way, sensational and risque.” — Lincoln Journal. 

“Albert Delpit’s story of ‘His Two Toves’ is an exceedingly clever 
analysis of human passion. Maurice de Fonde, a gay Parisian of the 
usual type, loves successively two sisters. In the first instance, the liaison 
lacked the spiritual element which alone should sanction the union of the 
sexes. In the other case, however, the sentiment was elevated and en- 
nobling, nor were the relations between the lovers debased by any im- 
moral offense. The story, although told with the usual gaiety and aban- 
don, which distinguishes M. Delpit's school, conveys an admirable 
moral.” — Detroit News. 

“Of the French, Frenchy, this highly-seasoned romance of Parisian 
life in gay and festive circles, serves the purpose of pointing out the old 
but oft-forgotten moral that ‘the wages of sin is death.' Less suggestive 
than plain spoken, and bold in diction, M. Delpit exhibits none of Zola's 
objectionable traits. To the more attractive style, he adds directness of 
purpose, and while the novel is clearly one for adults only, it is one of the 
most readable in the long category of Gallic realisms.” 

— Burlington Hawkeye. 

‘“His Two Loves' is a successful French novel with the usual 
French characteristics.” — Troy Times. 

“If the author intended to make vice hideous by exposing its worst 
side, and virtue attractive by showing the happy ending of a life of un- 
doubted purity, he has succeeded in the degree.”— nSt. Joseph News. 


PRICE 50 CENTS. 

The Price -McGill Company, 

ST. F>AUL. MINN. 


EDOUARD CADOL 


Tra.nsla.teci fro m thie F^renchi 


— BY — 



H. O. COOKE. 


PRESS NOTICES, 


“Though a little Frenchy, there is a total abstinence from the coarse 
vulgarity that is characteristic of so many French novels. The plot of the 
story is good and the interest holds till the end. To explain the plot is 
to destroy the great attractiveness of the story. Those who like to 
read a pleasant story that ‘ends well’ will not be disappointed in 
‘High Life.”’ — St. Paul Journal of Commerce. 

“It has the usual French plot, is sensational enough to please the 
seeker after thrilling escapades, and is not by any nieans a badly written 
novel .’’ — Pittsburgh Press. * 

“This is a very lively French tale, relating the long dream of a rural 
student at Arles, infected by the novels of Arsene Houssaye,'on the eve 
of his marriage .’’ — Lincoln Journal. 

“The translator, Mr. Cooke, has done his work well and the 
narrative reads as smoothly as in the original.’’ — St. Paul Dispatch. 



PRICE, 50 CENT. 


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SX. F»AUL, 


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READ 


LACE. 


A SHRED OF 


tBY-. 


FRANKLYN W. LEE. 


PRESS NOTICES. 

“‘A Shred of Lace’ is well worth reading, and reflects the highest 
credit on its author.” — St. Paul Daily Globe. 

‘“A Shred of Lace’ is an interesting story and is told in the easy, 
inconventional style, of a man who has seen life as it is. It is fully equal 
in merit to the best efibrts of any American author of the past decade.” 

— Stillwater Democrat. 

”‘A Shred of Lace,’ by Franklyn W. Lee, is a readable American 
story.” — Cleveland Plain Dealer. 

“It is a society sketch of three or four hundred pages. Lee’s style 
is flowing and entertaining, and he or she will be an exceptional reader 
who begdiis the untangling of ‘A Shred of Lace’ without finishing it.” 

— Des Moines Mail and Times. 

“ The story is vigorous, captivating, the work of a master-hand, and 
if perused with the spirit and understanding, may be, and should be a 
mentor, to arouse the woman of real life, to see the failure that is the in- 
evitable attendant.upon misconceived devotion to misunderstood duty.” 

— St. Paul News. 

“ The novel as a whole amounts to quite a clever satire on the sense- 
less freedom of intercourse permitted in American society between young 
people of the different sexes.” — Chicaffo Times. 

“The novel, ‘A Shred of Lace,’ which has just been placed in the 
market, by Franklyn W. Lee, the eminent young author, is creating con- 
siderable comment, and indications point to a large sale.” 

— Worthington Advocate. 

“An interesting tale in which tflere are some charmingly poetic 
passages.” — Town Topics. ^ 

“‘A Shred of Lace’ is so simple and so real, that it is as impossible 
to dissect on paper as one of the stories we see lived around us every 
day, for it is simply a few pages of real life.” — St. Paul Graphic. 

“ This is a fascinating story and will probably be one of the popular 
novels of the season.” — Lewiston Journal. 

“‘A Shred oe Lace’ is a pretty story of American domestic life and 
should command a large sale.” — Omaha Bee. 

“The plot is original and there is plenty of incident in this story in 
eastern New York. The interest is kept up to the end.” 

— Lincoln State Journal, 


PRICE, 60 CENTS. 

The Price- McGill Company, 

ST. PAUL. MINN. 


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